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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570676">Return to Aretuza</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessCharming/pseuds/PrincessCharming'>PrincessCharming</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Mentions of Cancer, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Professor Tissaia de Vries, Very minor Geralt/Triss, Yennaia, Yennefer is a former student of Tissaia's, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg is a Mess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:46:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessCharming/pseuds/PrincessCharming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"One last question, Ms Vengerburg… Tell us why you want this job," said Tissaia. Her eyebrows were slightly raised as though she were daring her to lie to her face again.</p><p>Yennefer figured whatever she said wouldn't make a difference at this point. There was no way she was getting this job.</p><p>"I can’t afford my rent because I kicked my roommate out for sleeping with my ex and I need a job that doesn't make me want to stab my eyeballs out with a pen."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>163</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yennefer goes for a job at the University where she was supposed to do a PhD under Tissaia. Now she just wants to get under Tissaia. Or on top of her. </p><p>Tissaia is a workaholic researcher with personal reasons for pursuing her field, she needs some convincing to live a little. </p><p>Thanks for reading :)x</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As soon as Yennefer walked in and saw who was on the interview panel she knew she wasn’t going to get the job. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seated across from her in an intimidating formation were the three panel members from the University of Aretuza’s Falka Institute of Behaviour Science: a woman who must’ve been an Admin representative, a man she assumed to be Vince Vilgefortz, and Tissaia de Vries.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god. Kill me now. What is she doing here?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer tried to maintain a professional countenance and not let it show how much she was freaking out at the sight of her former mentor. She needed this job. And yes, when she applied she’d known that there was a strong possibility of running into Tissaia in the building at some point but hadn’t banked on having to convince her personally to hire her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer made brief eye contact with Tissaia, whose face remained stony, and tried to gauge the probability that she’d forgotten her over the last four years. Or at least forgiven her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Approximately zero.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for coming, Miss Vengerburg.” Vilgefortz gave her a slick smile. He introduced himself as the only male on the panel, made a cringeworthy joke about being there to prevent gender bias, and bignoted himself by telling her he’d been recently promoted to Senior Lecturer after winning a major grant. Finally, he got around to introducing the other two panel members.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if reading her mind about why Tissaia was there, Vilgefortz added, “As per the email you would’ve received, Professor Stregobor was supposed to chair this interview. But he was called away unexpectedly and Associate Professor de Vries has kindly offered to step in for him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have any questions for us before we begin?” said Tissaia. Her hands rested on the notepad in front of her on the table, one of them poised to take notes with a pen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um no?” said Yennefer, a little thrown off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You have no questions about the role or responsibilities of the job you're applying for?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer felt herself flush. "I thought that was usually at the end of an interview."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Now is your chance."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After an awkward pause, Vilgefortz took pity on her and jumped in with the first of what was clearly a list of scripted questions. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell us about yourself… Would you say you were a team player… Where do you see yourself in five years…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Five years ago Yennefer had </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen herself applying for a job as a receptionist at the same University department where she had wanted to start an academic career. If things had worked out as she'd wanted she would've been close to finishing her PhD right now and not shrinking with embarrassment under the scrutiny of the woman who would've been her principal thesis advisor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fifteen minute interview was over in a flash. Yennefer thought her answers were acceptable. But the truth was that this was far from her dream job, she was not a people person, and she could tell her answers fell flat with Tissaia who knew they were lies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"One last question, Ms Vengerburg… Tell us why you want this job," said Tissaia. Her eyebrows were slightly raised as though she were daring her to lie to her face again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer figured whatever she said wouldn't make a difference at this point. There was no way she was getting this job.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can’t afford my rent because I kicked my roommate out for sleeping with my ex and I need a job that doesn't make me want to stab my eyeballs out with a pen."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vilgefortz and the HR lady were taken aback and tried to chuckle at what they thought was a deadpan joke. But Tissaia betrayed herself with a tiny smirk, probably triumphing over getting Yennefer to drop the act and admit that she had no interest in administrative work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if to annoy her even more, Tissaia tapped her pen on her notepad and then wrote something down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Vilgefortz got up to show her out. "Thank you for your time, Miss Vengerburg. We'll be in touch."</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer entered her stupidly expensive flat and let the door slam shut behind her. She dumped the bag of groceries she was carrying onto the bench and then set down the paper bag from the bottle shop with more care. After the job interview from hell today she was either going to stuff herself with pasta or have vodka for dinner. She wasn’t sure which yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her phone buzzed with a new notification. </span>
  <em>
    <span>1 new message from Triss. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer swiped it away without reading it. It wasn’t the first time she’d received a message from her former roommate and ignored it. Triss had been trying to contact her for months.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From the kitchen she could see the entrance to the flat’s second bedroom. The door was closed, as it had been for months, and it was empty save for a bare mattress. Yennefer knew there were solutions to her rent problem -- she could move to a studio apartment which would be cheaper or she could find someone to fill the second bedroom and share bills with -- she just didn’t like either of those options. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She signed the original lease with her ex-best friend Triss years ago. They were so happy to have been offered the place (it was much better than the dump where they had been encamped at the time). It was a good size, had a courtyard for Triss’s pots of herbs and flowers, and was close to Uni for Yennefer. Their friends group (Geralt, Sabrina, and Jaskier) had rallied to help them move in exchange for beer and pizza and then everyone collapsed and slept on the floor that night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The flat was silent now. It never had been when Triss was living there. She was always singing to herself or playing sappy music. Yennefer missed her and hated her in equal amounts now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer’s phone rang. She rolled her eyes when she saw who was calling, but swiped to answer it anyway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jaskier.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey sad bitch, what’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” said Yennefer, annoyed and not in the mood for this. “What do you want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Heard you had a job interview today,” said Jaskier. “Sabrina saw you at uni, said you were dressed like you were going to a funeral. If that funeral were being held at a Nightwish concert.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And how did it go?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Best interview ever. Why are you asking?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I care about you. So do the others. They’re always wondering how you’re doing since you won’t talk to anyone. I don’t know what to tell them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell them I’m fine.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jaskier scoffed. “You’re not fine, Yen. You’re a disaster.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before he could go on, Yennefer hung up on him and tossed her phone onto the couch. It bounced off and then hit the wall on its way to the floor, landing next to a stain on the carpet where Sabrina had once spilled red wine and covered it with a pizza box instead of cleaning it up. The longer she talked to Jaskier, the more chance there was that she’d end up asking about Geralt. And she did. not</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>care. about how he was doing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer grabbed the bottle of vodka and went to her bedroom to wrap herself in blankets and get thoroughly trashed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting in the dark taking swigs she thought about how much she did not miss her friends. She certainly didn’t miss the fact that they’d all taken Triss’s side after the two of them had fallen out. Geralt -- well, that was obvious. But she hadn’t expected to lose her entire friends group over it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the one who’d been cheated on! Then again, Triss was sunshine and Yennefer was a storm. It was easy to see why everyone would choose Triss over her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning (or afternoon?) Yennefer woke up with a killer headache, clutching an empty bottle, and lying on a bare mattress with the sun glaring at her through a gap in the blinds.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia went through her emails one by one, triaging them into categories and filing away those that didn’t need to be acted upon. Despite how busy she was and the many people vying for her attention, she abhorred an overflowing inbox and devoted each morning to organising it before she could even begin to concentrate on real work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was an email from her doctor’s office asking her to schedule a non-urgent appointment “as soon as possible”. Frowning, she filed it away in her ‘Personal’ folder without acting on it and then moved on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She clicked on the latest email concerning judgement of a journal paper she’d submitted for peer review. The original reviews had come back mixed: Reviewer 1 recommended the paper and pointed out a few sensible suggestions, Reviewer 2 cited methodological flaws and called for major changes to the manuscript. Tissaia had rebutted the criticisms but the Editor, unable to follow the arguments being batted back-and forth by email, ended up siding with the reviewer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We regret to inform you that your manuscript has been rejected…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I regret to inform you that Reviewer 2 is an absolute moron,</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ Tissaia thought to herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knew she was right, she always was. But unfortunately for her, it was often the case that other people around her were too incompetent to see it. The paper would get published elsewhere but it would be a pain going to the effort of reformatting it and submitting it again to a different journal. Some academics would’ve gotten one of their PhD students to do the tedious work, but Tissaia refused to treat hers like dogsbodies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A new email popped up from Vilgefortz asking her for her ranking of candidates for the receptionist job. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was tempted to reply “anyone but Yennefer” … except that it wasn’t the truth. Yennefer was far and away the best candidate they interviewed. Tissaia’s problem with hiring her wasn’t personal. She thought the job was a waste of Yennefer’s talent. As an undergrad and Masters student the girl had shown considerable potential. There was nothing wrong with being a receptionist of course but Yennefer used to be wildly ambitious. Why was she really applying for this job?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It still puzzled Tissaia as to why Yennefer had rejected her PhD scholarship offer from Aretuza. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’d never seen eye-to-eye but that was exactly why Tissaia had wanted her as a student. She had a fresh perspective and a critical mind. Tissaia often wondered what happened to her after graduation. She half expected to see her pop up at a conference, waving a shiny new PhD in her face from an institution even more prestigious than Aretuza. Like Oxenfurt or Axen. It was disappointing to see that she hadn’t made good somewhere else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Tissaia hadn’t heard anything of Yennefer until she’d seen her walk into the interview room yesterday. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stregobor had bailed on the interviews at the last minute. As usual, Tissaia ended up picking up his slack rather than letting the department look bad. That was why she hadn’t even seen the candidates’ names before their interviews. She should’ve recused herself but then again, she reasoned, half the department knew Yennefer too and the other half knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>of</span>
  </em>
  <span> her. They’d already suffered four weeks without someone manning reception. Another delay would be insufferable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia sent back her list to Vilgefortz. There was only one name on it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An hour later, she was knee-deep wading through the swamp that was first-year essay marking when Vilgefortz knocked on her door. He stepped in without waiting to be asked. His cologne overpowered the smell of books and the scent of the unfinished peppermint tea going cold on her desk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I called the panel’s first-ranked candidate but she’s not answering her phone,” said Vilgefortz.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia suppressed an eye-roll. “Then call her again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have. I’ve been calling her all morning.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Give her a chance to answer. Try later this afternoon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have classes to teach...” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat where Vilgefortz waited, looking at her expectantly. She wondered which other Senior Lecturer in the department would have the gall to delegate such a task to one of the Professors. If they weren’t careful, the department would end up with another Stregobor on their hands because this guy was creating himself in mirror image of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia pressed her lips into a false smile, vowing to make his life hell at her next opportunity. “Leave it with me. I’ll call her myself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On his way out Vilgefortz dropped two sheets of paper that were stapled together onto her desk. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a resume with a name and mobile phone number in large font at the top of the front page. Tissaia ran her eyes over the candidate’s skills and employment history. There was nothing there that she didn’t already know and no information that helped fill in the gaps that she was so curious about.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, Yennefer Vengerburg, the best student she’d ever taught, would be back at Aretuza. But this time she’d be answering phones… if only she’d answer her own first.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for the comments on the first chapter! I hope you enjoy this update. Happy reading :)<br/>Some things about academia in this story are true, half-true, or totally made-up based on my own experiences. I'll leave some notes at the end of chapters with hints about which is which ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the first day of her new job Yennefer got up after her third alarm went off. She showered in the dark with her eyes half closed and then went to her closet to compose an outfit that wasn't too revealing. At quarter to eight she walked out the door in sunglasses with an oversized thermal cup of black instant coffee to accompany her journey to uni.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It could've been a morning from four years ago. Except that she wasn't on her way to a lecture, happy with the expectation of meeting up with her friends afterwards at the campus bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she walked, Yennefer checked her phone and there was another message from Triss. This time she saw the message contents before having the chance to delete it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>[Triss]:</b> <em>Please Yenna, can we talk? I really want you to hear it from me instead of finding out from someone else.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer scoffed. Since when did Triss text like a clickbait headline?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer and Triss had been best friends since high school. Triss had flown straight through her qualification to become an early childhood teacher. Yennefer had worked retail for a few years to scrimp before entering her undergrad degree as a "mature-age" student at the ripe old age of 22 followed by her Master degree at 26. Sabrina, who had classes with Yennefer, joined the group next, absorbed into their shenanigans by proximity alone. That was around the time she'd met Geralt -- through his friend Jaskier (a music therapist) who knew Triss because she was friends with everyone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer fell for Geralt hard. He was older than her by a decade and their age gap looked even wider because he had started going grey in his early twenties and took to wearing his chin-length undercut in a ponytail. But it had appealed to her. He was broad of shoulder and strong of will. He was chivalrous when he was around but he wasn’t around much. He worked as a veterinary technician, which often meant long hours and travelling to farms across the state.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Geralt had a young daughter from a previous relationship (who Yennefer had never met) but he wasn't ready to put down roots. After Yennefer graduated they started arguing about marriage and having kids and where to live if she ended up going elsewhere for her PhD. She expected that he would follow her, since he already had to travel for work anyway. But she didn't get a scholarship and so Geralt didn’t have to say no.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their relationship had been over long before it was over. The more Geralt withdrew the harder Yennefer clung to him. She ended up walking out on him after a blazing row and didn't speak to him for weeks afterwards. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finding out that Geralt had slept with her best friend during that time had broken her heart twice over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was part of the reason why she'd distanced herself from the group. It would've been torture to be around the new happy couple. She couldn't stand them knowing that, months later, she still hadn't been able to move on. She was getting over losing Geralt himself but she wasn't over the loss of the life she nearly had with him. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that marriage was bullshit and that she’d dodged a train, she hated being single after getting so close to starting a family of her own.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer caught her mind once again straying towards her ex and forced herself to stop thinking about depressing shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once she got to campus she made her way to the Falka Institute. Yennefer went up to reception and waited half an hour before realising that no-one was coming to meet her. None of the decor had changed in four years and neither had the staff’s working hours. A stroll of the corridors revealed that nobody else was here this early, all of the academics’ offices were shut.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except one. The door was ajar and the sound of keyboard tapping came through. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia's office. <em> Great. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The last time she’d spoken to Tissaia had been on the phone call offering her the job and she’d been hungover as fuck. Was she doomed to endlessly embarrass herself in front of this woman or what? Her traitorous feet carried her down the corridor and before she could stop herself she was knocking on the door.</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>A short knock and then the word “Hey” came from the direction of her office door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia looked up from her computer monitor to see Yennefer Vengerburg leaning against the doorway, arms folded across her chest and one foot crossed over the other at the ankle. Unlike her student days, Yennefer seemed to have given up on dressing in head-to-toe black and had introduced some white into her wardrobe. She wore a black military jacket with silver accents over a white blouse and black skinny leg trousers with heels. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The other thing she noticed was that Yennefer was wearing more makeup than she used to. Eyeliner that brought out the lightness of her eyes, which were coloured blue-violet like Elizabeth Taylor’s. The contrast with her sepia skin tone and glossy black hair was stunning. She was fairly sure that Yennefer was not born overseas but her features implied she had at least one parent of South Asian descent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Welcome back,” Tissaia greeted her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer’s face broke into a smile. “You wear glasses now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, they’re new.” Tissaia looked down and pulled them off her face. She’d had them for three weeks and wasn’t used to them yet, nor any fonder of the phrase ‘age-related presbyopia’. She’d put off her appointment with the optometrist until she couldn’t do computer work without getting a migraine anymore. Next to Yennefer's raven-like beauty she was like a dull little brown bird.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They suit you," said Yennefer. "So what else is new in the last few years?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The MoodFit program was a success and the funding for a larger trial was matched by Beyond PinkRibbon. I’ve had several papers published from it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer arched an eyebrow. “If I was interested in your publication list I would’ve stalked your online profile. What’s new with <em> you </em>?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia deflected the question with one of her own, delivered in a droll tone. “Aren’t you supposed to be working.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nobody’s here yet. Can't login to the phone or computer until they set me up with an IT account. The Admin lady was supposed to meet me here this morning.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Sharon comes late on Mondays after school drop off. I'm sure she'll be here soon."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia caught Yennefer's gaze drifting around the office until it settled on a particular bookshelf where there was a row of almost a dozen hardbound theses gifted to her from her completed students. Black, navy blue, forest green, or red -- with the letters 'PhD' and the author's name stamped in gold leaf. By the end of the year, Sabrina's would join them. If things had gone differently, it would've been Yennefer's name there instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia remembered Yennefer standing in that very spot many times as a student, pestering her with questions every time she held office hours. Once, an intoxicated Yennefer came to her office for an entirely different reason. But they'd never referred to it since so she wasn't sure whether Yennefer even remembered it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"This might amuse you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia held out a printout of her recently reviewed paper. Yennefer took a few steps forward until she stood across from her desk within reach and took the paper. Now that she was closer, Tissaia caught the scent of her perfume, something fruity that she could not name but smelled delicious. She observed while Yennefer paced back-n-forth and pored over the paper, narrowing her eyes at certain parts until she got to the end and saw the feedback. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer came to a halt and looked at her. “This reviewer has completely missed the point of the analysis. And he's misspelled oncology, twice. Where do they find these morons?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You must learn to tolerate those who aren’t as smart as yourself, Yennefer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mm, like you do?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They exchanged a knowing wry look between them. A beat passed. But Tissaia wasn’t going to admit she’d had the same characterisation of the Reviewer. It wouldn’t do to pass on her bad habits. Yennefer’s sense of academic superiority was already overdeveloped, only tempered by her tendency towards self-deprecation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Sometimes the peer review process is constructive without being painful," said Tissaia, barely repressing a sigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, he managed to miss the only flaw in the whole paper," said Yennefer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Which is?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"The sample wasn't very diverse. Most of the patients were self-referred, since the response rate was so low for those contacted via the cancer registry. You're less likely to reach non-white or rural women that way."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia smiled to herself, allowing a little pride to show. "Yes. That was acknowledged in the Limitations section."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer flipped back to the front sheet to check something and was then overcome by horrified realisation when she saw the byline. "This is a paper of yours. You set me up."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Not at all. I enjoy your thought process."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Even when I'm criticising your work to your face?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Especially then."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer opened her mouth as if to say something more and then appeared to think the better of it. She handed back the paper, staring down from her lofty height with a challenge in her crystal-sharp eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something told Tissaia that she wouldn't get away with that trick twice.</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The first few weeks of Yennefer’s new job were over before she knew it, despite each day dragging its feet like they were stuck in mud. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every morning her waking thoughts were about Geralt and Triss, tasting more bitter than the instant coffee she chugged down while walking to work. Her duties were mundane but kept her occupied enough to leave little time to ruminate on how shitty she felt. Her mood improved over the course of each day and, eventually, entire days felt better and lighter than usual.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer was amused to learn that university IT had failed to become less incompetent over the last four years. They’d given her a new account instead of reactivating her old one, and she now had about six different identities in the various systems. For the first week she could only login to the computer or the phone but not both. Then they accidentally gave her impersonation rights to the publication database, which she was determined to find ways to abuse. After all, Vilgefortz seemed like the type who would publish an article for Breitbart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The staff were nice to her, many of them remembered her as a student since she’d stood out like a warning beacon in a bay. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stregobor was the exception. When he finally showed up, he passed by her with a double take and sneered. She remembered him as a stodgy old whitedude who had probably been around since before the building’s foundation was laid. Ancient and irrelevant. He undoubtedly remembered the time she’d called him out in front of a hundred-strong lecture theatre and told him he was wrong and racist. He’d turned red and spluttered back a defense that no-one bought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer grinned at the memory, realising that she’d never told Tissaia about it and made a mental note to do so. A/Prof de Vries’s barely-disguised disdain for Stregobor was well known and she’d probably get a kick out of it. Whenever she’d questioned Tissaia during a lecture, her mentor would return the jabs with a few punchy arguments of her own until the rest of the students became dizzy keeping track.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer eyes were caught each time that Tissaia walked past reception. Everyday she was impeccably dressed in the same style: dark dresses with blazers or skirt suits with blouses in royal shades of blue, green, or in between. She didn’t often wear her new glasses which was a pity, since it would’ve completed the uptight librarian look that Yennefer had an extreme weakness for in a woman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One odd thing was that Tissaia always came in person to reception to book rooms for her meetings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After half-a-dozen times, Yennefer raised her eyes saucily from her monitor. “You know, there’s an online system that lets you book meeting rooms yourself. You don’t have to waste time coming down here to get me to do this for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Would you prefer that I didn’t come to you for this?” said Tissaia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t say that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then please book the Seminar room for tomorrow from 3 til 5.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer's dormant attraction to her former mentor reignited like a spark in a paper mill. But she schooled herself to remain professional.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On her way home from work one evening, Yennefer detoured via the grocery store to pick up something to cook for dinner. Maybe even a vegetable or two. She'd been surviving on a rotation of packet noodles, dairy-free icecream, and toast (or vodka on particularly shitty days) but enough was enough. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Inside the store, she'd barely made it through the fresh produce section with her basket when she saw them. To anyone else they would’ve looked like a normal family, but to her the sight of them was a thumb pressed into a bruise. A painful reminder of an injury not yet healed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Geralt was pushing a trolley full of groceries accompanied by a child in a soccer uniform with white blonde hair who looked about ten years old. There was a brunette woman with them and though her back was turned, her identity was no mystery. The kid jumped on the front of the trolley, giggling all the while.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ciri, get off the trolley!" scolded Geralt. "You're making it hard to push."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"She's only playing," said Triss, turning with a fond smile on her face. "Let her be."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The little girl stuck out her tongue and retorted. "Yeah, Dad, I'm only playing. Let me be."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Triss walked around to put a bag of apples into the cart, her rounded belly was visible. She rubbed her stomach and then put her hand into the arch of her lower back. At the same moment, she seemed to sense she was being watched, and looked up, blanching when she saw her best friend staring at them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Triss was pregnant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer spun on the spot and left the store, dumping her basket without paying at the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- Yennefer looking at the rows of hardbound theses on Tissaia's bookshelf is TRUE. I used to do this in my supervisor's office. The year I graduated was one of the last years that the library required PhD students to provide a hardbound copy of their thesis (now they're electronically stored). It is customary, at least at my uni, to gift your supervisors a hardbound copy of your thesis.<br/>- Yennefer's multiple identities in the IT systems is TRUE. I've had so many different jobs at my institution over the years, that I've got multiple IDs. And when I left a particular systems job I "forgot" to tell them I wasn't supposed to have impersonation rights anymore.<br/>- Yennefer standing up in a large lecture theatre to call out the lecturer is definitely something I've never done. I would die.<br/>- Tissaia finding excuses to go see the receptionist she has a crush on is sadly TRUE. It was me.<br/>- Peer review is painful (partially TRUE) / reviewers are morons (mostly FALSE).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for the comments! Hope you enjoy this update :)x<br/>Some more Tissaia/Yennefer interaction coming up...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On her lunch break Yennefer wandered down to the university campus shop for something to do. Finding out about Triss and Geralt’s impending new arrival had been another twist to the knife in her back and it had set her emotional progress back a few weeks. Before she knew it she was at the counter buying shit she really didn’t need. She gestured to the blank cupboard where the cigarettes were hidden from plain sight and said to the cashier:</p><p> </p><p>“And a packet of… whatever’s cheap.”</p><p> </p><p>The bored cashier picked a packet from the bottom shelf and then tossed it onto the counter. “Winnies ok?”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded. But before she could get out her wallet and pay, someone appeared at her side.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s not ok,” said Tissaia, glaring at the cashier and then at Yennefer. </p><p> </p><p>They both had heels on so Tissaia barely came up to her nose but it didn’t deter her from putting her in her place. Yennefer knew she would not be spared a lecture over this. From anyone else, or if she cared less what her former mentor thought, it would’ve been galling enough to send her into spite mode.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you forgotten what we do here?” said Tissaia, lowering her voice. “We research ways to help people to reduce their risk of cancer, not hand over cash to the companies that are killing them. If you buy those death darts I will personally edit your Academic Transcript to be full of Fail grades.”</p><p> </p><p>Yennefer rolled her eyes at her. “<em> You </em> used to smoke.” She’d said so herself in a lecture once.</p><p> </p><p>“And much harm it did me. There’s nothing I regret more.”</p><p> </p><p>“You sound like you’re expecting to drop dead any second. Have you forgotten how risk factors work? A person at ten years of abstinence has the same risk profile as someone who’s never smoked.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly. We’re even. And you’re going to find a better way to cope with whatever’s going on.”</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia turned on the spot and left, disappearing into the lunch time crowd gathered by the cafe opposite.</p><p> </p><p>Yennefer sighed and batted the packet of smokes back to the cashier with a shake of her head. The cashier stowed them back in the forbidden cupboard and while he was ringing up the rest of her items (chocolate bar, packet of red licorice, and a lollipop), she grabbed a sandwich at random from the refrigerated shelf nearby. Leaving with her purchases she caught sight of the sandwich packet’s label and groaned inwardly. </p><p> </p><p><em> Cheese. </em> Her nemesis in food form.</p><p> </p><p>Outside the shop, Yennefer found a spare bench that was far enough away from the noise and laughter of students enjoying their break between lectures. Music from a live band playing whiny cover songs drifted from the courtyard near the shops, so she pulled out her headphones and turned the volume up on Nine Inch Nails. She unwrapped her sandwich, picked the cheese slice off and flung it into the garden behind the bench. She wasn’t keen on a sore tummy and being chained to the toilet for three hours. Her mood was shitty enough.</p><p> </p><p>After she finished eating, a figure came into her peripheral vision. Yennefer looked up, music still crashing in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia came over with a takeaway coffee cup in her hand and held out another one. She waited for a second until Yennefer took the cup, as though waiting to see whether she’d be rebuffed. Tissaia sat down next to her but didn’t say anything.</p><p> </p><p>Yennefer took her first sip and realised it was made with soy milk instead of regular milk. How did Tissaia know? She couldn’t remember mentioning being lactose intolerant to her, unless she’d made her favourite joke about being willing to die for real icecream in her earshot. Maybe there’d been a time years ago when they’d been in a group and coffees were ordered. But that would mean that Tissaia not only noticed but remembered it all these years.</p><p> </p><p>Yennefer lowered her Monster Beats from her ears and allowed them to rest around her neck. </p><p> </p><p>“My best friend is pregnant,” she said without preamble.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t seem in a congratulatory mood at this news,” observed Tissaia. She took a sip of her own hot drink.</p><p> </p><p>“My ex is the father. They’re together now.” </p><p> </p><p>“I see. So it’s true what you said in your interview. I thought you were being flippant.” </p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” </p><p> </p><p>Tissaia studied her for a minute, and when she spoke her tone was softer, more sympathetic. “And you think that an appropriate response to heartbreak is to take up smoking?”</p><p> </p><p>“It seemed like it for half a second.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I forbid it. In case that wasn't clear.”</p><p> </p><p>The word choice was certainly provocative. Yennefer gave her a droll look and couldn’t help teasing her. “You <em> forbid </em> it?”</p><p> </p><p>“As a matter of fact, I do,” Tissaia returned in kind. Her dimples showed up with a small smile that was too brief. “I’m sorry that things haven’t worked out for you in your personal life.”</p><p> </p><p>The two of them sat there without talking for a while, finishing off their drinks. It was a vast improvement on sitting there alone. Yennefer wanted to talk to her, wanted to know more about her, but there seemed to be a barrier around personal questions that she was dying to break through. Tissaia always seemed off-limits, hidden away, though ever approachable when it came to questions about her areas of expertise.</p><p> </p><p>Like always, any moment where Yennefer got her all to herself was over too soon for her liking.</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia reached over to tap the smartwatch on Yennefer’s wrist to reveal the time. “Is it nearly 1 already? I have to go to a meeting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for the coffee,” said Yennefer, by way of goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>As Tissaia stood up to go, her fingers brushed Yennefer’s hand. “If there’s anything I can do.”</p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Tissaia got back to her office she had a minute spare since her student was yet to arrive for their supervision meeting. There was time for a quick glance at her emails, which revealed no pile-up over lunchtime. She then checked her phone and saw that there was a missed call accompanied by a text message.</p><p> </p><p><b>[William Street Medical Centre:]</b> <em>Hi, we tried calling. Sorry we missed you! Please call (03)86521453 to make a non-urgent appointment as soon as possible.</em></p><p> </p><p>She cleared the notification with a swipe, annoyed that they kept trying to get her on the phone with them. She would get around to making an appointment soon, maybe when her workload eased, just not now. Their own message said that it wasn't urgent. It was only a followup to the mammogram she'd had for the first time two weeks prior and she did <em> not </em> want to hear what they had to say. </p><p> </p><p>That was the joy of turning 40, she supposed. The doctor had given her a battery of tests: blood pressure check, cholesterol test, skin check, eye test… It made her feel as though her body was about to start falling apart. When he asked her about stress she wanted to yell that she was FINE and the only stress she had was-</p><p> </p><p><em> Ugh. Turning 40. </em> </p><p> </p><p>It was stupid to care about a birthday that was no more significant than any other. She just wanted to let it pass with no acknowledgement whatsoever and keep herself too busy to reflect on her life or the niggles she'd felt lately that something was missing.</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia was pulled out of her thoughts by a tapping at the door. When she looked up, her PhD student Sabrina Glevissig was there. At her nod, Sabrina came in and took the seat opposite her desk. </p><p> </p><p>“Where are you at with writing your thesis introduction?” said Tissaia, getting straight to business.</p><p> </p><p>“Almost finished,” said Sabrina with a nod. “I’ll send you the final draft by Friday.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good. I’ll read it over the weekend. What’s next?”</p><p> </p><p>“Updating the literature review.”</p><p> </p><p>“OK. Run your search terms through EMBASE and PubMed again, see if anything new comes up that should be added. For one, results from the DELCaP trial just came out. You’ll need to discuss their findings.”</p><p> </p><p>Sabrina frowned a little. “I thought it was a chemo dosing study?”</p><p> </p><p>“It had a substudy consisting of a physical activity survey over the two year study period. They looked at whether exercise before and after chemotherapy was associated with reduced risk of recurrence and survival.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did they control for disease progression though? Sicker patients are both less able to exercise and more likely to die.”</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia pursed her lips into a smile. “That’s for you to find out.”</p><p> </p><p>With the next task under her belt, Sabrina shuffled her notes together getting ready to leave. </p><p> </p><p>They often had short supervision meetings. Sabrina was a dedicated student but was one of the few research students who had an unemotive view of her topic. Cancer had never touched her life. A complete contrast to Tissaia herself, who knew the topic all too intimately, and Yennefer who could be roused to passion by any injustice. Though she didn’t show it outwardly, Tissaia knew which of the two girls she most identified with.</p><p> </p><p>Part of her mind was still going over her conversation with Yennefer at lunchtime. She'd sounded very bitter when talking about the breakup and the best friend's pregnancy. It pained her to see Yennefer so disappointed by life. There was a tendency in her to be self-destructive and Tissaia wondered if there was more to this than just a breakup.</p><p> </p><p>Even though she'd only seen them in class together years ago, Tissaia knew that Sabrina and Yennefer were friends. University friendships didn’t always persist once people went their separate ways in life. If they were still close, Sabrina might have more context to offer for what was going on with Yennefer.</p><p> </p><p>She would have to be careful asking about her, lest she betray too much interest.</p><p> </p><p>"Have you caught up with Yennefer lately?” asked Tissaia. “She's started working here again. At reception."</p><p> </p><p>Sabrina nodded as she stood up and held her notes to her chest. "I saw her the day of the interviews and figured that's why she was here."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you haven't kept in contact?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not recently. There was a breakup and a falling out and she hasn't talked to any of us since."</p><p> </p><p>Sabrina was obviously trying not to reveal too many personal details. Tissaia already knew some of it but what she hadn't known was that Yennefer had been isolating herself from <em> all </em> of her friends. That generally wasn’t a good sign.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you know why Yennefer didn't end up doing a PhD at another university?" asked Tissaia.</p><p> </p><p>Sabrina shrugs. "I dunno. We were all sure she'd go to Oxenfurt. But she was very much in love with her boyfriend. I guess she wanted to get married and start a family."</p><p> </p><p>Once Sabrina left, Tissaia puzzled over her words. </p><p> </p><p>They didn't fit with her own view of Yennefer: that she was driven and ambitious and could've run rings around the field had she pursued academia. It would've been a waste of her talent to end up only a mother. The common view nowadays was that it was possible to have both motherhood and a career (not that organisations made much more than a performative gesture to enable it). Tissaia had seen other women in academia attempt it and she'd always been skeptical that it could be done well. One or the other must suffer. She’d ruled it out for herself in recent years, having spent all her time securing her career instead of securing a partner while young enough to conceive without having to go through it as a "geriatric" primigravida.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe Yennefer returning to Aretuza in an administrative capacity was an opportunity in disguise. It would take some finagling but if Yennefer was at all interested in coming back to research, Tissaia vowed to find a way to make it happen.</p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was after 5pm when Tissaia heard a knock on her office door. When she saw who it was she had to resist the urge to take off her glasses.</p><p> </p><p>“You busy?” asked Yennefer. She must’ve just finished work for the day.</p><p> </p><p>“Not especially,” said Tissaia, eyes flicking from her monitor for a second. “Have a seat. I’m in the middle of writing an email.”</p><p> </p><p>Before taking a seat, Yennefer took a stroll around the small office looking over the battered bookshelves and stacks of papers, probably cataloguing any minor changes over the last four years. She ended up in one of the old vinyl low-seated chairs that used to be in the tea room. But instead of sitting in it like a normal person, Yennefer sat sideways with her legs draped over the arm so she could face her while leaning back against the cabinet behind.</p><p> </p><p>She picked up a stress ball from a shelf within reach -- some Aretuza merchandise that was being given away at the student union one day -- and started squishing it.</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia got on with answering an email for a few minutes. Why Stregobor was so wordy she’d never understand. She sighed when she finally got to press send.</p><p> </p><p>“So what’s up with this big grant that Vilgefortz says he got?” asked Yennefer. </p><p> </p><p>“The national health council granted him 2.5 million dollars to trial a generic against the leading brand of smoking cessation medication.”</p><p> </p><p>“Was that the trial he presented about the other day at the seminar?”</p><p> </p><p>“I believe so.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah but…” Yennefer made a face and caught the ball as it bounced off the wall. “It’s a non-inferiority trial with a 20% tolerance margin. Quit rates are only about 20% percent. That means the new drug can meet the hypothesised tolerance even if <em> no-one </em> quits in that group. That’s garbage science.”</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia didn’t know the particulars of the study design, she hadn’t been invited to be co-investigator on the grant and she was now thankful not to be involved. If Yennefer was right, the taxpayers would be spending 2.5 million dollars on a scientific experiment that couldn’t possibly generate a meaningful result. It was indeed garbage. And it was a denigration of those involved for not being as sharp as Yennefer despite their greater experience and qualifications.</p><p> </p><p>“How do you know they’re using a 20% margin?” asked Tissaia.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw his notes sitting in the printer tray. Might’ve snooped a bit.” </p><p> </p><p>“It’ll never get published in a decent journal.”</p><p> </p><p>Yennefer’s disdain was obvious. “Well, yeah, but doesn’t it bother you on principle? It’s a waste of money, not to mention it’s unethical to run a useless trial. How can you just shrug your shoulders and be like ‘not my problem’ knowing that this sort of thing is going on. Can’t you say something, maybe they could change the study design before it starts?”</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia gave her a look that spoke volumes. “Vilgefortz won’t listen to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm. He’s kind of a dick.”</p><p> </p><p>“Academia is full of … difficult people.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but not all of them are dicks. Take you for example.”</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia was surprised but amused by her impudence. “Me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Yennefer flashed her a beautiful array of perfect teeth. “You’re utterly brilliant, which I imagine your colleagues find difficult to bear in comparison with themselves. You’re a perfectionist with standards so high that not even you can live up to them. And worst of all, you’re impossible to get to know.”</p><p> </p><p>“And I don’t mind my own business when young people are exercising their legal right to purchase harmful products.”</p><p> </p><p>“True. But I happen to enjoy your endless ball-breaking.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the one tossing a ball around my office apparently hoping to break something.”</p><p> </p><p>“I need to be entertained at all times.”</p><p> </p><p>Tissaia tried not to smile and failed. “You should go before you have to walk home in the dark. I have one more email to write then I’ll be leaving myself.”</p><p> </p><p>The ball bounced out of Yennefer’s reach and she gave up with a sigh. She grabbed her bag which had fallen to the floor earlier and shouldered it as she stood up. Then retrieved a large pair of headphones and draped them around her neck. As she left the office she waved and told her not to work too late. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as she was alone, Tissaia let out the breath of relief. But when she next inhaled, all she could smell was the lingering scent of Yennefer's fruity perfume.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Stop it. She’s too young, she’s an employee, and she’s dealing with a breakup. Besides, she's probably not interested in women anyway. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>There was no way she was going to get any more work done tonight. So she packed up her things and headed out of the building towards the carpark, chastising herself the whole way.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Behind the scenes<br/>- The uni campus shop selling cigarettes is a huge stretch. They didn't even sell them on campus when I was there 15 years ago let alone now.<br/>- "A person at 10 years abstinence has the same risk profile as a non-smoker". This is mostly true but it depends on which outcome you're talking about (stroke, cardiovascular death, or lung cancer, etc.) The risks reduce from Day 1 and are substantially lower after only a few years' abstinence.<br/>- The DELCap study is real. The important finding was that exercise was associated with reduced recurrence and reduced mortality in women with breast cancer. Sabrina's question about "controlling for disease progression" is referring to confounding bias, which cannot be eliminated in this sort of study (you'd need to randomise patients to exercise or not, which would be unethical) so it's an unavoidable limitation.<br/>- geriatric primigravida - medical term for first pregnancy at over 35 years maternal age<br/>- The Non-inferiority trial described here is a mashup of two real trials: one that was well-conducted and one that was badly designed (details withheld to protect the guilty). Basically speaking, an NI trial is where there is a new drug that might not be as good as the old drug at helping people quit smoking but it has some other benefit (like being cheaper, safer, more tolerable/less side effects) that makes it worthwhile. In such cases we want to know how much worse we will tolerate the new drug to be before the con's outweigh the pro's. That's called the tolerance margin. Generally, a large tolerance margin is a red flag.<br/>- Tissaia's "endless ball-breaking" is a quote from Ripper Street in reference to MyAnna Buring's character Long Susan.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love the comments so much, they're really insightful! In this update, Yen &amp; Tissaia get a little bit closer... but is it one step forward, one step back? Thanks for reading. Enjoy :)x</p>
<p>Also, in case anyone's interested... About a year ago, the whole of Australia was on fire for the whole of summer. Well, this year we've had the wettest summer in decades and it's now flooding all down the East coast of NSW. No deaths, so it's a massive improvement. But can we not have a natural disaster FOR FIVE MINUTES?! Our Covid-19 situation is well under control though so that will always be a positive. Sending best wishes out to everyone else for a speedy vax rollout. Stay safe x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yennefer started spending time in Tissaia’s office every afternoon once her shift ended. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes they talked shop, getting into invigorating discussions about everything from exercise interventions for women recovering from breast cancer to pharmaco shenanigans, and sometimes they existed together in a comfortable silence in which Tissaia finished off some work at her computer while Yennefer scrolled through her phone. Then they'd walk out together to the carpark before going their separate ways.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Tissaia didn't hate it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She started looking forward to the end of her day. She started leaving on time instead of staying late and forgetting to eat dinner. She started thinking about Yennefer all the time…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That last one wasn’t an improvement. She needed her brain to work properly for her job but sometimes it just wouldn’t focus on anything other than how good Yennefer looked and how amazing she smelled whenever they were close enough. Despite Yennefer's cynicism and penchant for black clothing she brought a lightness to Tissaia’s day. Her thoughts gravitated to her like she was some kind of personal black hole.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She didn’t want to stop thinking about her. No matter how often she went over the reasons why it would never happen, her traitorous mind still clung to the fantasy that maybe it could… </p>
<p> </p>
<p>One afternoon Yennefer was sitting in her usual spot, though it could hardly be called “sitting” -- she was reclined in the low vinyl chair with one leg over the arm and the other propped up on the cabinet. She was quiet as she scrolled through Instagram except for random intervals where she’d laugh or aww at something. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, that’s so cute!” Yennefer cooed and held up her phone to Tissaia. “Check this out. It’s a pair of twin girls and they’re wearing t-shirts that say ‘Control’ and ‘Intervention’.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia smiled, more at Yennefer’s reaction than the photo itself. “The parents better watch out. Someone might try to recruit them for a twin study.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, there’s no way I’d let my kids into a study. Not after seeing how many of them aren’t well-designed or well-conducted.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you want children?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess, at some point. Yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer’s answer was too casual, as though she were trying to downplay it. Tissaia remembered how hard she’d taken the news of her best friend’s pregnancy and suspected she might’ve been more disappointed about that than the breakup itself. Her own views on it aside, she wouldn’t disparage motherhood to Yennefer’s face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You're young,” said Tissaia. “You have plenty of time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer rolled her eyes. She’d probably heard such platitudes before but they were a complete contradiction to society’s constant pressure on women in their 30s to procreate. Then she seemed to realise that Tissaia had walked through a door and left it open behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about you,” asked Yennefer, looking up from her phone. “Did you get married or have any kids in the last few years?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Boyfriend?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Tissaia chuckled. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Girlfriend?” Yennefer raised an eyebrow, cheekily pushing her luck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took all of Tissaia’s famed self-control not to react, though her insides were fluttering like a swarm of manic butterflies. Half of her wanted to confirm that she was attracted to women but the other half didn't want to admit to Yennefer that she was still single at nearly 40. </p>
<p><br/>
“You're clearly bored out of your mind. If you keep this up I might give you some work to do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go ahead. What've you got?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Marking.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer made a face. “Ugh. Hard pass.”</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Margarita Laux-Antille was a necessary evil in Tissaia’s life. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They’d both started at Aretuza as junior academics at around the same time, they’d both attended the same women’s leadership program, and they’d both been promoted to A/Prof in the same year. Their careers had progressed in parallel, though not in competition with each other since they were in different Faculties. Unfortunately, Rita knew too many of Tissaia’s weaknesses for her liking and for that reason alone they were friends as well as colleagues.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every week, if a gap in their schedules coincided like a rare celestial alignment, they caught up for coffee at the campus cafe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Have you ever dated a student?” asked Tissaia, regretting it before the words were even out of her mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rita snorted into her latte and nearly spilled it. “Are you kidding? I teach calculus to first-year engineers. What would I want with an 18 year old boy? Dating them when I was a teenager was bad enough, let alone now. Why are you asking.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No reason.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh god, Tissa. How long has it been since you got laid?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not like that,” Tissaia snapped. “She’s not even a student anymore. It’s been four years.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rita’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t had sex in four years?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I meant-- Oh forget it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell me.” Rita pleaded, putting her whole face into the request. “Please. I have no greater joy in life than listening to other people’s problems.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia gave up, knowing only too well her tenacity for ferreting out gossip. Besides, who else did she have to talk this over with? She glanced around the cafe, making sure no-one was close enough to overhear. The last thing she needed was for rumours to get around about her having an improper relationship with a student, especially a female one. Her plans for promotion to full Professor would be out the window.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia lowered her voice. “Someone I know made a pass at me when she was a student. I said no, of course. On top of it being unethical and against policy, she’d been drinking at the campus bar before she came to my office.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rita nodded thoughtfully. “Well, you are <em> you </em>. I see why she went for liquid courage.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now she works here and I see her everyday. She’s even more beautiful now than she was then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you’re having regrets?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. Not about the past...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then what is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia looked down and shook her head, unable to verbalise her unease. “I don’t know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even if Yennefer had been serious in her proposition back then (instead of on a drunken dare as she suspected) her attraction had come too early and Tissaia’s had turned up far too late. Maybe her feelings weren’t real. Maybe she was just a cliche -- pushing forty and in denial that anyone would ever find her attractive again, trying to hang on to her youth by scamming on a much younger woman. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She would never date a student. Ever. The idea of it held no appeal. But Yennefer wasn’t a student anymore and although they worked in the same department she wasn’t even her boss... Though their age gap was a consideration there were no rules that would be broken. But dating the receptionist seemed like such a middle-aged-man thing to do. She could imagine Stregobor’s sneer when he found out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia stared into her cup which was drained of coffee and just as empty of answers. When Rita leaned in it caught her eye and she looked up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Listen to me, Tissa,” said Rita, knowing full well that she hated that nickname. “I’ve never met anyone so reluctant to live as you. Your career won't fall asleep in your arms at night or eat you out on a Saturday morning. If you’re interested in this woman, ask her to dinner. You said yourself she’s not a student. Who cares what anyone else thinks?”</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>It was nearly knockoff time when Vilgefortz came to reception to give Yennefer the conference schedule. Showboating as usual, he praised his own work and then made a point of saying he was leaving for the day. As soon as Yennefer cast her eyes over the schedule she knew it was wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Falka Institute would be hosting a small conference on lifestyle interventions for cancer patients tomorrow and dozens of national and international delegates were expected. Tissaia was head of the organising committee, a role she no doubt had little time for, and had likely been sorting out the logistics for months. It was a thankless task though Yennefer had yet to hear her complain about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vilgefortz had made it sound like scheduling was beneath him and that he’d done it as a favour instead of a task that had been assigned to him as part of his academic service role. But it looked like he’d completely bollocksed it up. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the keynote address he’d booked a tutorial room with only half the occupancy needed. (Why V-man hadn’t booked the large lecture theatre that was available she couldn't fathom.) Plus around half of the breakout rooms he’d booked for the stream sessions were already booked for the faculty’s teaching activities. Even the meal breaks weren’t aligned with the caterer’s delivery times. The more Yennefer looked the more conflicts she found. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> This is a goddamn fucking mess! </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Is Vilgefortz actually this incompetent or is he purposely setting Tissaia's conference up to fail?! </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer could picture the chaos tomorrow: Falka staff getting shitty at the conference over the double bookings, delegates not being able to get a seat in a room with a particular talk they wanted to see, lunch breaks with no food … and Tissaia at the centre of it, trying to wrangle the tangled mess on the spot. As head of the organising committee all of the negative feedback would fall on her shoulders when things went to shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ordinarily, Yennefer lived for chaos and if the shit were due to roll down anyone else’s hill she would’ve been reaching for a box of popcorn. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She removed her Jabber headset and went to Tissaia’s office. The door was shut and there was no answer to her knock. She knew Tissaia didn’t have any meetings this afternoon because she usually blocked out Thursday 3-5pm in her calendar for writing time. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer returned to reception to look up a number in the building directory. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi, this is Sabrina Glevissig,” the person on the other end answered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey bitch tits, it’s me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She realised after she’d said it that she’d forgotten they weren’t friends anymore. They’d always used insulting nicknames for each other in the past but outside the bounds of friendship it risked being offensive. There was a one second pause, probably Sabrina noticing the same thing, before she replied. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well well," said Sabrina. "If it isn’t Ebony Dark’ness. What’s up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you know where Tissaia is?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer stressed, “<em> And? </em> Is she down there in the PhD pit teaching you basic sentence construction?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I drove her home about a half hour ago. She had a migraine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh. It must’ve been bad if she left work early. She never does that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know. Hope she’s alright by tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shit,” cursed Yennefer, remembering the problem at hand. “You know the conference tomorrow? Vilgefortz has fucked up the schedule. I was going to ask her if it was ok for me to fix the room bookings.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yennefer, you useless walnut, when your house is on fire and the firefighters turn up do they wait to ask you if it’s ok before they put out the fire?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh… no.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There you go. Anything else?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah,” said Yennefer, swallowing the cough in her throat along with her pride. “Can I buy you a beverage sometime next week? Sans animal secretions of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After she hung up, Yennefer set about fixing the fucked up schedule while planning Vilgefortz's murder in her mind. An hour past her usual knockoff time she was finally done and well past hangry. The last thing she decided to do before having to walk home in the dark was print about 100 copies of the new schedule and post them to every door, noticeboard, and stairwell in the building. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>On her way out she passed by Vilgefortz's office and flung the remaining stack of papers under his door.</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The conference went well. No thanks to Vilgefortz.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the end of the day Yennefer snuck into the back of the lecture theatre to hear Tissaia give the concluding remarks. The house lights were down so she could watch her without being noticed. Tissaia seemed well enough and did not appear to be still suffering from a migraine. As always, she was professional and in control of the audience’s attention and unfairly gorgeous while doing it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia thanked the organising committee, crediting them for their hard work and barely acknowledging her own. (Yennefer had to roll her eyes at the sight of Vilgefortz preening under the undue praise.) Then she presented the conference awards, one of which went to Sabrina for Best Student Presentation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she watched, Yennefer realised that, in a different timeline, she might’ve given a presentation at this very conference. It could’ve been her up there shaking Tissaia’s hand and getting a clear resin plaque inscribed with her achievement.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her phone buzzed in her pocket, signaling a new text message.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>[Geralt]:</b> <em>Yen, could you give Triss a call. She’s worried about you. Stress isn’t good for the baby.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer was unimpressed by his lack of tact in breaking No Contact. He hadn’t put her first when they’d been together so he’d hardly start prioritising her feelings now. Any contact with him was still painful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With hindsight she could see that some things hadn’t been right with their relationship. He’d always told her he hadn’t wanted children. Over the years Yennefer had assumed he’d come around to the idea once they were settled. But that had been wishful thinking in spite of the evidence. Geralt had spent years avoiding his responsibility to Ciri -- he sent her financial support but not fatherly support -- and now he was soon to become a father for the second time. She wondered how Triss felt about his reluctance to commit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As shitty as Yennefer felt about the breakup she thought it might be a shittier feeling to be pregnant with a surprise child whose father didn't want it and to not have a best friend to talk it through with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her hatred for Triss was fading. Now she just pitied her and felt like a bad friend. Somehow that was worse.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Triss deserved better than them both. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer returned to her desk as soon as the conference closed and everyone else dispersed. She cleared some last-minute work tasks and then got ready to leave. Her supervisor Sharon told her she could go home early since she’d stayed late the previous day. It would’ve been better if she had a good weekend to look forward to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She grabbed her bag and pulled out her Monster Beats to drape them around her neck while scrolling through her playlists on her phone. When she stopped for a second to wait for the automatic glass doors to open she heard high-heeled footsteps catching up behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I enjoyed seeing the building’s new wallpaper when I got to work this morning,” she heard Tissaia's voice say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh?” Yennefer spun around and frowned, not sure if she heard the question right. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The conference schedules."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh. Yeah. Might’ve gone a bit overboard with that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sabrina told me you stayed late yesterday to fix the room bookings.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That depends. If you’re happy with what I did then it was me. If not, it was Vilgefortz.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The corners of Tissaia’s mouth tugged into a smile and revealed her dimples. “I thought as much. Thank you. I appreciate you taking the initiative to fix a problem that wasn’t your responsibility.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No worries. Glad I could help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She turned as if to head out when Tissaia called her back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yennefer, wait… can I take you to dinner?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Under any other circumstances Yennefer would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. But Tissaia only wanted to thank her for saving her conference and she looked uncomfortable just from asking the question. She was doing that thing where she clenched her jaw so hard it made her throat muscles tense. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed but Yennefer did; she knew when Tissaia was stressed about something and trying to hide it. She was probably hoping this conversation was over already.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, it's fine.” Yennefer tried to smile convincingly. “I’m just going to go home and binge some Netflix. Have a great weekend.”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Behind the scenes<br/>- The twin girls' t-shirts that say "Control" and "Intervention" was a real photo I saw online once and now cannot find again. It references twin studies which usually seek to tease out questions about how genes and the environment contribute to certain traits or behaviours.<br/>- Tissaia and Rita are Associate Professors abbreviated to A/Prof. In the Australian system there are 5 non-executive levels: A (Associate Lecturer), B (Lecturer), C (Senior Lecturer), D (Associate Professor), E (Professor).<br/>- "PhD pit" - I'm not sure how widespread this term is but back in my department it referred to a room in the lower floor where PhD students were all smushed in together for lack of space. I was never in the "pit" myself, I shared a small office with a guy who was hardly ever there so effectively I had it all to myself. It had a kitchen sink in it for some reason.<br/>- "animal secretions" - a few years ago I worked directly for a new Professor who was vegan (he told us over and over) and he used to refer to milk and dairy products as animal secretions. He was a total fraud and completely incompetent at his job, both research and teaching. Me and my colleagues spent the better part of two years putting out fires and running interference, mostly because we didn't want our students to be disadvantaged because of stupid decisions he made. He was also aggressive to every female academic who he perceived as "a threat", except me because I was only a Level B and I was useful to him. He had a long list of complaints at HR. I doubt I'll ever witness anything like it again.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thanks again for leaving wonderful comments, you have no idea how much they mean to me!<br/>Hope you like a bit of angst ;) Thanks for reading. Enjoy!</p>
<p>Happy Easter to those who celebrate the chocolate festival. Stay safe and well x</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yennefer had learned how to evaluate evidence from Tissaia herself. Sometimes data were sparse or low quality but all needed to be considered in response to a question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This week the evidence was telling her that Tissaia was avoiding her. The question was: why?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On Monday, Yennefer went to her office to see if Tissaia was ready to leave so that they might walk out together only to be told that she was staying later that evening. On Tuesday, Yennefer went there earlier so that they might have one of their chats but Tissaia turned her away with the excuse that she needed to concentrate on a grant application. On Wednesday, Yennefer literally ran into her on her way into the staff bathroom just as she was coming out. Tissaia had stared at her for a full second then startled like a bird before flying away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was weird behaviour and Yennefer couldn't account for the sudden change.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was reasonably sure that Tissaia was at least a little attracted to her based on catching her looking at her tits at least twice. The day of the bathroom mixup had been the most obvious look of all -- but that could've been due to Yennefer running out of appropriate shirts and wearing a too-small blouse that had to be secured with a safety pin because the buttons strained across her breasts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On Thursday, Yennefer met up with Sabrina for an approximation of coffee at the campus cafe. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dickhead cashier sneered at their choice of soy milk (Sabrina was vegan) so she flipped him off. While they waited for their takeaway orders Sabrina ducked off to the bathroom, leaving Yennefer to loiter by the condiments stand by herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Two new customers, both women, walked in to wait nearby for a table because the place was so busy. It was Tissaia accompanied by a tall statuesque woman around the same age with honey-coloured ringlets hanging to her shoulders dressed in an emerald green maxi dress that showcased her figure. A classic blonde bombshell. But it wasn’t her that held Yennefer’s gaze, it was her companion and the blue skirt suit that hugged her petite frame. Could one be jealous of a skirt suit? she wondered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer noticed the blonde woman staring openly at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The blonde woman said, "I apologise for speaking out of turn, my dear, but your eyes are the most unusual colour I've ever seen! They're almost purple."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yeah, I get that a lot,” said Yennefer. She glanced at Tissaia, figuring it would be rude not to acknowledge her. “Hi Tissaia."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The blonde woman cast a sly glance between them. "You two know each other?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia introduced them. "Rita, this is Yennefer Vengerburg, she was a student here a few years ago and now works with us. Yennefer, this is Rita Laux-Antille from the Faculty of Engineering."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rita looked at Yennefer like all her Christmases had come at once. "Ohhh, so you used to be a student and now you work here… and Tissaia sees you everyday."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Er- that's right."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You should join us!" said Rita. Beside her, a wide-eyed Tissaia suddenly looked like she wanted to kill someone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer bowed out. “Thanks but I’m waiting for a friend."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, we can chat until they get here. What do you do with yourself outside of work, Yennefer. Are you single? Are you interested in men, women, both? Perhaps I can fix you up with someone I know."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Um-"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Rita,” hissed Tissaia. “You're being exceptionally nosy. Even for you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Dreadfully sorry, Yennefer,” said Rita, not at all chastened by being scolded. She leaned in like she was sharing a secret while running her pointer finger around an imaginary circle. “This is a safe space. Tissaia's gay as a daisy and I'm poly with an unfortunate preference for men. You don’t have to worry that I’m outing you. Or that I’m hitting on you, my dance card is full up at the moment. And by that I mean I’m getting filled on a nightly-"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Order for SERENA!” The barista called out. “Order for JENNIFER!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s me!” Yennefer took the opportunity to escape by going to collect her and Sabrina’s drinks, leaving Rita to face Tissaia’s lethal glares alone.</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“The queens are still missing,” Sabrina commented out of the blue. She drained half of her soy mocha with three extra shots in one go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer took a sip of her soy latte. “Yep. It’s a mystery.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were sitting cross-legged in the middle of the giant chess board painted on the floor of the open-air space that adjoined the library. The chess pieces, each about knee-high, were standing in their starting places -- all except the black queen and the white queen, which disappeared many years ago and had never been returned or replaced. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were no students around so they had the place to themselves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So. How’s your thesis going?” said Yennefer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sabrina groaned. “Don’t ask.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fair enough.” Yennefer chuckled. She did know better than to ask a final year PhD student such a triggering question as when they were due to finish. For perfectionists (or procrastinators) the finish line was like the horizon, no matter how much they did (or didn’t do) it never got any closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So. Are you over that man-child Geralt yet?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sabrina...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What! He's a good guy but that descriptor is totally valid. You know it is. He's a crap boyfriend. I repeat: how are you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Better. Most days.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer sighed and looked away, wishing they could avoid the topic and get back to being friends. “I’m uh, sorry I disappeared for so long. It was hard to see any of you after… Anyway, sorry I didn’t call or text.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bold of you to assume I even noticed you were gone, Morticia.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They shared a wry smile and just like that everything was back to normal between them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a lot to catch up on but most of all Yennefer was dying to ask Sabrina about Tissaia. For instance, did Sabrina know that Tissaia was gay and why hadn’t she passed that tidbit of brand new information on? But she couldn’t ask because Sabrina was way too perceptive. If she found out that Yennefer was interested in her thesis advisor she’d never let it go. Worse -- she’d probably “let it slip” in the most embarrassing way possible. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It didn’t seem an accident that Rita had outed Tissaia so presumably she wasn’t closeted. Yennefer was curious about how the two of them came to be friends; they were an unlikely pair. But then again, that’s what most people had said about her (a walking raincloud) and Triss (sunshine embodied) ever since high school.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wondered how Triss was coping with the pregnancy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"How's Triss?" asked Yennefer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sabrina gave her a significant look. "Call her and find out."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No. I don't want to hear her explain why she decided to fuck my boyfriend."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Geralt told her you'd broken up, which you had. She wouldn't have slept with him if you were still together."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"That's not the point.” Yennefer plonked down her empty coffee cup and it flopped over. “She was my best friend, she knew I was still in love with him and she did it anyway. She must've known how much it would hurt when I found out."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sabrina sighed. "Look, Yenna. It sucked but she did you a favour. Geralt had four years with you and he still wasn't ready to commit. Now he's her problem to deal with. You're free to find someone who does want a life with you. You deserve that."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wasn’t quite ready to admit it but deep down Yennefer knew that she was right. Her relationship with Geralt had been going nowhere yet she might not have given it up by her own decision. Sabrina was a good enough friend to tell her the truth as difficult as it was to hear. She’d actually missed that bluntness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer leaned forward to hug her. Sabrina (who was as averse to feelings as she was to milk) submitted to it with an eye-roll and a one-word comment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Gross." </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Later that afternoon, she picked the phone up on the first ring. "Falka Institute, this is Yennefer."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh hi, Jennifer,” a polite female voice said. “I was trying to reach Tissaia de Vries but there was no answer."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The line must've rung out and diverted back to the number for reception instead of to voicemail or a mobile number. Tissaia must be elsewhere in a meeting or out of office. Maybe she'd just stepped out and forgotten to reroute her number to her mobile? Or maybe she’d murdered Rita, hidden her body, and was now on the run.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Dr de Vries must be unavailable,” said Yennefer, getting a pen and notepad ready. “Who's calling, I can take a message if you like?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, thank you. We've tried calling a few times this week with no luck. Can you confirm her number is 21 917 884?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes, that's correct."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ok, thanks. We'll try again another time."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was odd, Yennefer thought after they hung up. It was someone who wouldn't identify themselves but the ambient sounds on the other end (a baby's cry, someone coughing, and another phone ringing) testified that it was a doctor's waiting room in the background. It puzzled Yennefer for two reasons: why was Tissaia's doctor's office trying to chase her up at work when they presumably had her personal number and why was Tissaia dodging their calls?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer snooped on Tissaia's Outlook calendar -- it was meticulously organised as always -- but there were no meetings or time blocked out for writing or personal appointments for the rest of the afternoon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Out of pure nosiness she got up and went by Tissaia's office on the pretence of taking a brief walk to stretch her legs. The office door was ajar. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knocked and pushed it open. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Inside she saw Tissaia pacing slowly back-n-forth with one arm wrapped around her middle and the other propped up so that she was cradling her forehead in her hand. She seemed too preoccupied to have heard the knock. Yennefer wondered whether she was having another migraine and whether she ought to turn the overhead lights off for her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hey, Tissaia," said Yennefer, letting her know she was there. "Are you ok?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia straightened up and stopped in her tracks. "Yes, of course. Why?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Have you been in your office this whole time? You missed a phone call a minute ago from your doctor's."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"They told you that?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, I guessed. They said they’ve been trying to contact you for a while."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I will call them when I can,” insisted Tissaia, ringing her hands in front of her. “I just haven't had time. The SMS said that it wasn’t urgent."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Okayyy," Yennefer drew out the word, frowning. "That's not reassuring if they keep chasing you. Why haven't you called them to see what it's about?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm fine." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm sure you are."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Why are you questioning me about this?" said Tissaia, sounding even more on edge. "It's nothing to do with you and you're making it sound like it's a big deal when it isn't."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Then why do you look like you're about to hyperventilate!" Yennefer said crossly, unable to stop her temper flaring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia’s emotional regulation was famous, some people called her cold or distant or “Dr Freeze”. She was always in control, she never raised her voice or let her annoyance show even at the stupidest of questions. But she was losing it now. Her breathing was short like she couldn’t catch her breath. Her face crumpled a second before she hid it behind her hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer's ire evaporated in an instant. She hastily shut the office door and then went to Tissaia, putting her hands on her upper arms when what she really wanted to do was encircle her in her own. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hey, hey, it's okay," she soothed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Tissaia lowered her hands Yennefer took them in both of hers and held them. Even though Tissaia couldn't make eye contact with her yet she could tell she was calming down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s it. Slow breaths.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer sat her down in the low vinyl chair and knelt down in front of her. She knew from her own experience how valuable it was just to have someone be present with you in a moment of panic or grief. She waited silently until she was ready to speak.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia eventually let out a shaky breath and said, "I had a mammogram, my first one."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer’s first thought was that Tissaia should've been too young to start screening for breast cancer. Most women under 40 weren't screened because the risk was low and their breasts were often dense which made false negatives likely. Early screening would usually only be performed if there was a personal history or a first-degree relative with the disease.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Oh god, that means she's high risk... </em>Yennefer's heart seized with a dread that only increased at what she heard next.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia continued. "My doctor found a small lump I hadn't noticed. That's why he referred me for mammography."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"And? Was it benign?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't know," Tissaia said in a small voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer spluttered. "Wait, what? What do you mean you don't know! You haven't got the radiologist's report yet? Honey, you need to call your doctor back right away. It's probably benign, most of them are, but if not…" she trailed off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If not, she needed to go for further testing straight away before a cancer diagnosis could be confirmed. They both knew the stats; the odds weren't terrible but neither were they comforting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It probably wasn't helpful -- revealing her own worry like that -- but Yennefer had blurted out her questions without thinking. She knew she should put her own feelings aside for Tissaia's sake but she honestly had no idea how Tissaia could put up with not knowing the test result for something this important! The not-knowing was already driving her nuts. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia looked down at their joined hands. "I can't make myself make the call. I can't do this."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes, you <em> can </em>. This is your area of expertise. You know what you would tell anyone else in this position. And most of all, you're Tissaia fucking de Vries and you can handle anything."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I can't be one of them." Tissaia glanced towards the stacks of research papers on the shelves beside her, the studies she'd run that documented the lives and deaths of thousands of women who had suffered. “They’re all so brave… and I can’t even pick up the phone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Quick as a flashover, Yennefer reached over to the desk and grabbed the Cisco deskphone with one hand, nearly pulling it crashing to the floor. She tapped the buttons and navigated through the menu on the small screen to the Missed Calls list and re-dialed the last number that had called this extension. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia shot her a look of alarm. “What are you doing.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer pressed the button to put it on speaker and set the handset back into the cradle. With her free hand she held Tissaia's while they listened to the ring tones and waited for an answer. Tissaia wasn’t stupid -- she would’ve figured out what Yennefer was up to and the phone was in her reach the whole time. She could’ve hung up the call at any moment… but she didn’t. She might not have been able to make the call but neither could she bring herself to end it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Williams Street Medical Centre, this is Tracy.” It was the same voice who called earlier.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi Tracy, this is Jennifer. We spoke a few minutes ago. I have Tissaia de Vries here on speaker. Can you give test results over the phone?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm sorry, no. Doctor needs to see her."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ok, when's the next available appointment."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Tomorrow, 4:00pm? That's the earliest we have I'm afraid."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer flicked a glance at Tissaia who didn’t object. "Ok, that's fine, thanks."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the call ended, they sat there in silence for a minute or two. Until both of them realised they were still holding hands and the air in the office suddenly seemed hyper-conscious of that fact. Tissaia tensed up again so Yennefer withdrew, figuring that she'd pushed her luck too much already. She was half expecting her to throw her out and never speak to her again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You had no right to force me into this,” Tissaia said, tight as a bow. “I'm not a child, I don’t need someone to make an appointment for me. It should’ve been my decision."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Promise me you’ll go," said Yennefer, pleading with her eyes. "Promise me."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia wouldn't look at her. “I have a meeting in 10 minutes. I need to prepare.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer took the dismissal for what it was and left. She knew there was no meeting, Tissaia just wanted her gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Behind the scenes<br/>- The giant chessboard at the library really exists - this is at my own university but I'm not sure if there ever were any pieces for it<br/>- "non-urgent appointment ASAP" - this was a real SMS my Dad got from the doctor's office. We thought it was really confusing to write ASAP as well as non-urgent which led to some minor freaking out about test results. I suspect that the word urgent is reserved for triaging emergency presentations (meaning the patient should be assessed within ~1 hour)<br/>- Phone numbers - 21 917 884 is a random scramble of my work extension. Feel free to call me if you can but I almost never answer (lol). The Smith St Med Centre phone number from Chapter 3 is the Australian 'rick roll' number :D<br/>- I researched mammography via Australia's BreastScreen program (processes will vary by country/state) but any mistakes are mine.<br/>- "Dr Freeze" - apparently vries means freeze in Dutch</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some answers and good stuff coming in this chapter! Thanks for reading. Enjoy :)x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier was off his face when he decided to face-time her. Club music blared in the background coming through the tinny speakers. He shouted into his phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where are you, Eeyore? WHY AREN’T YOU OUT WITH ME.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Friday night and Yennefer was on the lounge in front of the TV in her pyjamas. There was zero chance that she could be convinced to get out of them. Her clubbing days had ended before she met Geralt and now she had even less desire to spend her time getting groped by sweaty hands in the dark accompanied by shitty house music and the smell of stale beer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Today sucked because she hadn’t seen Tissaia at work, which meant she’d spent all day worrying about whether she would actually go to her doctor’s appointment. Numbing her brain was the only solution if she wanted to get any sleep later. She was already three fingers deep into a glass of Codigo 1530 Rosa tequila and six handfuls into a Family Size packet of Salt n Vinegar chips when Jaskier’s icon popped up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer shoved some chips into her mouth. “I’m watching a true crime documentary on Netflix.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“ALONE?!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, what of it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aren’t you SCARED watching murder by yourself, Yen, you live alone! At least get a cat. Or some pussy-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Annoyed, Yennefer cut him off. “Bye.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as she hung up she thought she might’ve heard a knock at the door. The narration on the documentary continued to play on the TV so she muted it to listen again. Next door’s dog was barking its head off about something. The knock didn’t repeat but she decided to get up and check anyway. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer flicked on the porch light and peered through the gaps in the frosted glass panel door. There was a figure standing on the other side but she couldn’t see who it was until she opened the door fully. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Tissaia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia was dressed in a maroon work dress but wasn’t wearing a jacket so her arms were bare to the evening chill. Instead of her usual pumps she wore flats. Her hair was down, falling just past her shoulders, and had kinks in it as though it had been fixed up into a bun for the day. She looked amazing but why was she here?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, I uh-” Yennefer scrambled for words, not at all prepared to see her with her hair out for the first time. “How’d you know where I live?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia startled, as though she just realised where she was. “I don’t know why I’m here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is everything ok? Are you-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence because she suddenly had a small woman in her arms. She wrapped her up tight by instinct, nearly lifting her off the ground because Tissaia had had to rise up onto her toes to get her chin over Yennefer's shoulder. Her hot face was buried in Yennefer's neck now and she was quivering all over. It was like holding a mouse or a small bird in her hands. One she never wanted to let go of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Oh god, she went to the doctor and it's bad news. She must be really upset to have come here of all places. Maybe she had nowhere else to go. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer’s stomach sank like a lead weight. If anything happened to Tissaia she would never forgive the universe for it. It would be the ultimate unfairness for her to lose to the illness she’d spent her whole career researching.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’ll be okay,” Yennefer murmured. “No matter what.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was negative,” Tissaia said in a shaky voice. “Just a benign cyst. The imaging showed it was full of fluid, not solid.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took a second for it to sink in and then the wave of relief hit. She squeezed her tighter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh thank <em> fuck </em>! You had me so worried. I swear if I wake up grey tomorrow it will be 100% your fault. Couldn’t they have just said that over the phone instead of letting us worry ourselves half to death? I’m so glad you’re alright.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Yennefer loosened her arms to set her back on level ground, she was smiling and Tissaia was smiling too. But it didn’t last long because when she realised she was still pressed up against Yennefer she pulled away a safe distance and tensed up again. Seemingly unsure what to do with her hands, she smoothed some imaginary creases out of the front of her dress. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry for intruding,” said Tissaia, impassive countenance back in place. “I should've respected your boundaries. Coming to your home outside of work hours wasn’t professional.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Yennefer wasn’t having any of it. “Screw that. C’mon, you need a drink.”</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Yennefer led the way through the hall to the kitchen. She gestured for Tissaia to take a seat at one of the barstools by the bench (there were only three left of the original four because Jaskier had thrown one over the fence and the neighbour refused to give it back). She went to one of the overhead cupboards to fetch some glasses. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have a nice place,” said Tissaia, sliding onto a stool. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer placed two tumblers on the bench top. “You're being generous. My roommate decorated the place but I made her take it all with her when she moved out. Now it looks like a depressed drunk lives here which is only half true. So, what would you like to drink?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you have?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With a flourish she gestured to the line of bottles in the bench alcove and said, “Well, I have all the alcohols...“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anything. I can’t think anymore tonight. Keep in mind I drove here...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok, I’ll make you something light.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer went to the fridge to get some ice, lime, and a punnet of strawberries and then to the bar service to get a bottle of rosé and the half-full bottle of Hendrick’s Midsommer Solstice gin that she’d gotten for Christmas last year. In no time at all she produced a small Cherub’s Cup with muddled strawberries, skimping on the liqueurs because she suspected Tissaia was a lightweight and it wouldn’t take much to put her over the limit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re quite the bartender,” Tissaia observed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Qualified and experienced,” said Yennefer, pushing the glass towards her. “I spent the past four years working at O’Malley’s. I have seen some shit let me tell you. How is it -- not too strong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After taking her first sip, Tissaia shook her head. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For her own drink Yennefer took far less care, pouring a random amount of orange juice and gin into a glass. She threw in a few ice cubes and gestured for Tissaia to follow her into the lounge room, where the two of them sank into the lounge side-by-side. The TV was still on, silently showing a murder scene reenactment. She grabbed the remote and pressed Menu so that they would still have some light. The screen cast a blue glow over the dark room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia took a sip of her drink and set her glass down on the coffee table. “I need to apologise for my behaviour this week, especially yesterday. I’ve felt so out of control lately. With the mammogram on my mind I couldn’t handle anything else. I shut you out…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer shook her head. Half of her drink was gone already so she put it down for a while. “You don’t need to apologise.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want to tell you something that might explain it. My mother died of breast cancer when I was 18. I’d just finished school so I sold the house and went off to university and in a way, I’ve never left. I went through a bit of a bad time. I wasn’t taking care of myself, started smoking and a few other bad habits. I thought nothing I did mattered and there was no-one who cared what I did. It took years to really process it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That must’ve been awful. I'm so sorry.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer wanted to comfort her in some way, maybe take her hand, but Tissaia always tensed up when she did that. She didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable when she was already sharing some heavy personal stuff. It did explain a lot about her though -- from her personal reservedness to the way she devoted herself to her research. It must’ve affected her to lose her mother at such a young age. Yennefer wasn’t close to her own mother (who lived with her stepfather two states away) but at least she hadn’t been denied the opportunity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia gave her a wistful look. “She was younger than I am now. I guess I’ve always felt like there’s an axe over my head waiting to fall.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If it’s okay to ask, have you had genetic testing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, a few years ago. I’m positive for the BRCA-1 mutation so the lifetime odds are about fifty-fifty. It’s something that’s always in the back of my mind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No wonder she felt like it was a death sentence! And with that particular gene mutation Tissaia would be at risk of a type of breast cancer that was harder to treat. Early detection could literally save her life -- if she complied with her doctor's advice. It worried Yennefer that Tissaia might not comply (she’d been reluctant to even return a phone call about it). Was loving someone supposed to be this hard? She couldn’t remember feeling <em> this </em> neurotic about Geralt’s health -- but he was an unkillable ox who never got sick.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer voiced another question she had. “Why did the doctor make you come in to tell you your result?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He wanted to check that I was coping. I won’t have to go for another mammogram for a year or two but he stressed the importance of self-examination or getting a partner to do it. But I don’t have a partner so…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I volunteer as tribute!” Yennefer blurted out. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia frowned. “Excuse me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mixing alcohol all night had not been a good idea because Tipsy Yennefer had no filter. Once she realised what’d come out of her mouth she tried to walk it back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh god, I’m <em> so </em> sorry! I didn’t mean to joke about a serious situation. It’s just that anyone who got to be with you like that would be the luckiest person ever. I'd love to be the one to take care of you and to fondle your breasts and --  fuck, that sounded really creepy. I meant -- um no, I’m just going to shut up. Forget everything I said.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia pursed her lips into an amused smile. “Actually, I’d like to hear more. Why did you say no to dinner last week?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because I was in a shit mood and you were just thanking me for preventing a disaster at work.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No. I wasn’t.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer’s eyes went wide with horror. “Were you asking me <em> out </em> out?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When you turned me down for Netflix I thought you mustn’t be interested.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I’m interested! In fact, I’m half in love with you. I-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before she could go on Tissaia’s lips pressed to hers, gentle but insistent. Her eyes slipped closed and she leaned into it with a sigh. Just when she thought Tissaia would pull away again she opened her mouth to deepen the kiss and Yennefer felt herself melt from the inside. It was sweet and intoxicating but not from the strawberries or the gin. She always did have a quick fuse but this had her arousal surging and all they’d done was kiss. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia’s hands were in her hair then cupping her face. While they were making out, she inched her way closer until she was practically straddling Yennefer's lap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were rushing. Yennefer knew it. She should stop and check-in. But Tissaia seemed fine, more than fine. Her mouth was soft and hot and she was an amazing kisser.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer ran her hand up Tissaia's bare thigh and pushed the hem of her skirt higher so that she could pull her flush against her body. When Tissaia moved over her thigh she let out a tiny moan and Yennefer's pulse thumped harder in response. How many times had she imagined what this would be like? Her imagination was good but it hadn’t even come close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer had to break the kiss to catch her breath. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia buried her face into her neck and left open-mouthed kisses on her skin. “Is this okay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, god yes. You feel so good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yennefer…"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Mm?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Where’s your bedroom?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Behind the scenes<br/>-	The part where Yennefer volunteers to do Tissaia’s breast checks was the inspiration for this ENTIRE STORY ARC because that’s how gay I am.<br/>-	Tissaia remembered Yennefer’s address from her job application.<br/>-	Mammogram is an X-ray so a tumour (cancer) will often look like a white solid and will often be asymmetric or rough-edged. Whereas a cyst will usually be smooth, round, and clear black because they’re full of fluid. It’s not always easy to tell them apart, so the next step would be followup imaging or biopsy. And they would take into account how dense the woman’s breasts are, compare the new images to any previous year’s imaging, and what the lump “feels like” since cysts are more pliable. In Australia, about 90% of screening mammograms are normal, the remaining 10% are potentially abnormal and are investigated further but only a very small fraction of those end up being diagnosed as cancer.<br/>-	The “lifetime” risk of breast cancer means the proportion in the population who will be diagnosed with cancer at some point in their life, it’s about 1 in 8 women (12%).<br/>-	BRCA-1 and BRCA-2 are mutations of two genes responsible for an increased risk of breast or ovarian cancer and some other cancers. These mutations are harmful because they interfere with the cell’s ability to repair damaged DNA. Genetic testing is usually only performed on people with a personal history or close relative with breast cancer (especially if the relative was positive for a mutation). Carriers of the BRCA-1 mutation are more likely to develop “triple negative breast cancers” which can be more aggressive and sometimes hard to treat. The estimated lifetime risk of breast cancer for BRCA-1 carriers is about 69% (around six times higher than other women) so the odds are actually a bit worse than fifty-fifty. [Angelina Jolie famously announced that she was positive for BRCA-1. Her mother, aunt, and grandmother all died of breast or ovarian cancer.]<br/>-	Check Your Mate (preventcancer.org) is a campaign urging people to check their partner’s body for changes (e.g., breasts, skin, testicles)<br/>- I researched all of the above info online but any mistakes are mine</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, after that rather suggestive cliffhanger you probably know what's coming next. I've upped the rating to M to cover this chapter for sexual situations. Thanks for reading! :)x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They probably should've talked first but neither of them wanted to stop for that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia begged off for a quick trip to the bathroom. While Yennefer waited in the bedroom, she lit a few candles on the dressing table and then pulled the bedspread off and sat down on the end of the bed. As soon as she returned, Tissaia leaned down and kissed her like she couldn’t wait any longer. So they picked up where they'd left off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer pulled her in and Tissaia's hands slid underneath her shirt as she guided her further up the bed, hovering above her on all fours. She broke the kiss to grin and pulled her own shirt off leaving her bare-chested. She pushed her pyjama shorts down her hips as far as she could reach and let Tissaia pull them the rest of the way down her legs. Tissaia’s eyes raked over her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're beautiful." Tissaia's voice came out deep and huskier than usual. Like thick raw honey that had crystallised at the edges.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Tissaia's hands cupped her breasts and started stroking her it drove her insane with want. So far Yennefer was the only one naked and that needed to change. She was dying to feel bare skin flush with her own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer fumbled around the back of Tissaia's dress searching for the zip. "Can I take this off?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia sat back, straddling her hips. “It has to go over my head.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The zip ran from her ribs down to her hip on the left side. As Tissaia worked on the zip, one of those tiny fashionable ones that had a habit of stiffening up or catching, Yennefer pushed the hem of the dress up making sure to brush every inch of skin as it was revealed. The bunched up fabric caught at the shoulders until Tissaia reached her arms up and together they eased it gently over her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia was left in a simple black t-shirt bra and black underwear with a small lace trim. It would have been hot if she’d donned sexy underthings as part of a plan to come over and seduce her, but Yennefer suspected this was the type she wore under her clothes every day. The realisation ruined her, thinking back to all the times she’d seen her at work in suits without knowing what was underneath. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia quickly divested herself of the last of her clothing, tossing them to the floor, before coming back to straddle her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>God, she was gorgeous. Even in the low light, Yennefer could see how fucking perfect she was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands settled on Tissaia’s waist, caressing her up to her ribs and down over the gentle flare of her hips. She felt muscles tense suddenly under her fingers and stilled, glancing up to see if Tissaia looked self-conscious or uncomfortable. But what she saw in her steel-coloured eyes was pure desire. As an experiment, she massaged her waist with a firm squeeze and then ran her thumbs up lightly over her nipples. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia tensed her jaw and inhaled sharply. In that moment, Yennefer realised that every time in the past that she’d felt Tissaia tense -- when she’d taken her hand or when she’d asked her out or when they’d hugged earlier tonight -- it was because she was trying to hide her feelings. She hadn’t wanted Yennefer to find out how much she was affected by her. It was apparent now that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> sensitive to touch -- something Yennefer was determined to exploit at every opportunity. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer wrapped her arms around her and pulled her down to lay on top of her so that they were intertwined. The weight of her settled between her legs. She kissed along Tissaia’s jaw and whispered in her ear. “You’re so responsive. I love it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a tease,” Tissaia chastised. “Not that it’s a surprise.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you. You’re torturing me on purpose.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm, is that so?” Yennefer played innocent, not at all believably. “Why don’t you tell me what you want? Otherwise, I’ll do whatever I want to you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With that challenge, Yennefer pushed her knee up between her legs bringing her into contact with her upper thigh. She was already wet. As Tissaia began to grind against her, the pleasure rolled up her spine and it had her arching up and pushing back into her. Together their hips met in a rhythm over and over. After a few minutes of that Tissaia was breathing hard into her neck and the sound of it was the sexiest thing she’d heard yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer grabbed her by the back of her thighs and pulled her harder against her, rewarded with a gasping moan in her ear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, honey," Yennefer soothed. "You need to come. Can you flip over for me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer would’ve guessed that Tissaia liked to be in control in bed but right now she seemed ready to give it up. Tissaia let herself be rolled over onto her back, tangling her hands into the mess of Yennefer’s hair that fell forward, moving it out of the way of her face so they could kiss. She let her deepen the kiss, accepting the tongue that was thrust into her mouth. When Yennefer moved to settle between her legs, pushing them further apart, she allowed it with a little resistance. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay there,” Yennefer warned. She kissed her chin and then trailed her lips down to her chest. “I want to hear you so don’t even think of stifling yourself."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as Yennefer licked the tip of her nipple, Tissaia let out a sound that was almost a whimper, so she took her fully into her mouth. Knowing how sensitive she was, Yennefer sucked gently and kept her teeth at bay. The constant stimulation of her lips and tongue had Tissaia writhing underneath her and just when she was really losing it Yennefer swapped to the other breast and gave her the same pleasure there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yennefer...”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I need you-” Tissaia’s breath hitched. "Please."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer chuckled and left a sucking wet kiss in the middle of her breast bone. Hearing Tissaia ask for it had her own arousal flaring. She placed her hand between Tissaia’s legs, teasing her with a touch so light she was sure she’d get a smack for it. She ran her thumb lightly over her clit, keeping her on edge, while she moved down her torso leaving open-mouth kisses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this what you want, baby?” Yennefer pushed a crooked knee further apart and leaned in to lick her inner thigh. Tissaia just about jumped a mile. She licked her closer. “You like this?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Mmhm."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It must've been the thumb circling her that was distracting. Yennefer brushed her lips over her, just barely, teasing her and probably driving her crazy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Tissaia... use your words. Tell me or I'll stop."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! I like it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good girl."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, she took pity on her and covered her with the heat of her mouth. Tissaia's sensitivity to being touched anywhere else was nothing to her reaction at the feel of Yennefer’s mouth on her. Yennefer kept circling her entrance with a thumb while she stroked her folds and clit with her tongue. Tissaia's hips jumped each time she applied a little extra pressure or gave her a tiny flick.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes. Yes. Keep going..." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yennefer had her in absolute thrall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer was enjoying herself immensely. Nothing could match the intense feeling of having the woman she'd been lusting over for years underneath her, hearing every moan and every broken whimper as she got closer and closer to losing control. Yennefer wanted so badly to make this good for her. Tissaia deserved to be made feel fucking amazing after the week she'd had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer kept it up, steadying her pace, even as Tissaia grew closer. She felt her legs start to shake and her back started to lift off the mattress. She must be close now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia's head tipped back and her body arched with tension begging for release. Her hands searched for purchase on the sheets underneath so Yennefer reached out and caught one, threading their fingers together, so that she had something to grip as she came.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, yes!" Tissaia panted, seconds away from coming. Then she cried out as it hit her hard. Her hips jerked and she tried to curl up but was held safe by Yennefer, still mouthing her gently to prolong the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Tissaia settled back into the mattress with a sigh, still twitching, while Yennefer peppered her with light kisses and nuzzles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer slid up the bed so they could face each other, though Tissaia's eyes were closed. Tissaia had stretched out her legs, her knees must've been aching from being bent at a sharp angle for so long, and then rolled over onto her front to cool her skin which was blazing with heat from being trapped against the mattress. Yennefer took the offer and placed kisses on her shoulders and brushed her hair with her fingers as she recovered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It amused her now to think that there was a time when she'd found this woman intimidating.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're going to be insufferable about this aren't you," Tissaia murmured into the pillow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer grinned. "I don't know what you mean."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh god. It's already started. I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the smug look on your face."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Judging by the look on </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> face, I have a right to be smug. You've gone completely soft and floppy. Ready for another?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't," Tissaia complained. "I'm done for a good while."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer laughed. "Aww that's so cute. You're a One Hit Wonder."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They kissed again. And again. Light chaste sips and nuzzles. Until Tissaia pushed her away onto her back with a hand on her shoulder and a wicked glint in her eye. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer quirked an eyebrow at her in lieu of a question. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pitch and promise of Tissaia's reply went straight to the place low in her belly, lighting her arousal again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's your turn."</span>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Tissaia woke up, early as usual, she was in unfamiliar surroundings but the scent of a familiar perfume was everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then she remembered -- she was at Yennefer's flat, having spent the night in bed with her. She'd turned up at her door, upset and seeking comfort, they'd talked and somehow ended up having sex. She could hardly remember waking up feeling so refreshed despite the ache in her hips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room was cool but the bed sheets were warm, nearly too warm, due to the heat generated by the other body lying next to her in a sprawling position with her face smushed into a pillow. Yennefer was still asleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Careful not to wake her, Tissaia slid out from between the sheets and got up to gather her bits of clothing from the floor where they'd been dropped last night. Then she left the bedroom to go in search of the bathroom, clutching her clothes to her naked body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She used the toilet, regretting that she hadn't taken a few minutes to do so before falling asleep last night. Her mouth was dry from drinking last night (not that she'd imbibed much). Taking a small liberty, she squeezed some toothpaste from the tube lying on the vanity, rubbed it over her teeth with a finger, and swished her mouth out with water. Then she put on her bra and dress but not yesterday's underwear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the lounge room, Tissaia located her handbag and shoved her balled up underwear inside. Like the rest of the flat the decor was spartan, apart from two oversized chess pieces standing in the corner of the room that didn’t seem to belong. She took out her phone to check it but it had gone flat overnight. She sat down on the lounge to wait.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now what?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She'd never done this before. Was this the start of a relationship or was it a one-time thing? Was there some sort of protocol for one night stands? Should she not have slept over? Should she leave now? Or would it be impolite to walk out without at least saying 'thanks for having me'...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer had hinted last night that she had some feelings for her and they were obviously very sexually compatible so perhaps this wouldn't be a one-off… But how deep did Yennefer's feelings run? What would work be like now? It had been torture enough hiding her feelings before, how much worse would it be now that she knew what sleeping with her was like?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She knew already that her brain would never let go of the memories she had of last night. Yennefer's body was so beautiful it seemed to have been carved by Aphrodite herself: firm, toned, and silky smooth. Unlike Tissaia, who was nearly ten years older and had a soft belly and nearly no bottom, Yennefer had no reason to be self-conscious and nor had she been. And then there were her memories of particular things Yennefer had said and done in the heat of arousal...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sex with Yennefer was suprisingly sensual. She'd made Tissaia's body sing. And she wasn't shy about her own pleasure either.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After her first orgasm via Tissaia's fingers, Yennefer recovered by rolling over to reach into the top drawer of her bedside table. She held out what was apparently her favourite toy and asked if she would like to use it on her. Intrigued, Tissaia made her get up and join her at the bottom of the mattress where she bent her over and fucked her until she was gasping uncontrollably into the bedsheets.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dominance wasn't her thing in the bedroom but Tissaia had to admit that it was a thrill to see the results of getting the rhythm and pressure precisely right, filling her over and over and eventually harder when it was requested. It was especially satisfying being in control over the pleasure of the woman who had teased her so mercilessly when the roles had been reversed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Now who's the good girl," she'd said to her, moments before Yennefer came again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia's sex flashbacks were interrupted by the subject of her thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer emerged from her bedroom into the living room wearing her pyjamas from last night and scuffing her feet which were in a pair of black ugg boots. One hand tossed her long black locks which were a sea of messy waves. Her face lit up when she noticed Tissaia sitting there. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, you're still here,” said Yennefer. “I thought you'd left."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't want to leave without seeing you," said Tissaia. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer smiled as she sauntered over and leaned in to plant a kiss on her lips. "Hey! You cheated, you brushed your teeth. I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to be the only one with morning breath." She went to the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few minutes she came back and kissed her again -- minty fresh this time -- before sitting down on the other side of her, thigh to thigh. "Have you been up long? Sorry I'm a crap host, I should've gotten up first and made you breakfast in bed."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine.” Tissaia waved it off. “I don't like eating in bed anyway. It reminds me of… being too sick to get up."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer nodded and then gave her a thoughtful look. "Are you alright? Is the cancer scare playing on your mind?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That seemed forever ago now. Her brain had swiftly moved on from that crisis and on to the next, which was trying to figure out where her relationship with Yennefer stood. The lack of clarity was killing her but she also wasn't sure whether to bring it up after only one night together. It was probably too late to avoid looking desperate given how she'd thrown herself at her last night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine,” said Tissaia, unable to articulate her unease. “Last night was... well, I'm not used to things moving so quickly."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Was it too rushed for you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Perhaps, but I don't regret it."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Good."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer smiled, looking at her intently with her mesmerizing amethyst-coloured eyes. Then she tucked Tissaia's hair behind her ear and kissed her sweetly on the lips. That led to them exchanging another round of kisses, ones that were soft and pleasurable but didn't lead anywhere.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I should go," Tissaia said, breaking away with reluctance. "I need to shower and change clothes."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you want to have breakfast first?" said Yennefer. "Scratch that, I don't have normal people's milk. We could go out for brunch?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe another time, when I'm not wearing yesterday's clothes."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer walked her to the front door holding her hand loosely by the fingers. Tissaia paused for a moment on the stoop and turned around to say goodbye. She had to rise up on her toes to give her another kiss. The tender way that Yennefer cupped her face made it difficult to leave.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After Tissaia drove the short distance home, she pulled into her garage and parked the car, then grabbed her dead phone and went straight inside to put it on charge. After the quickest shower of her life she felt clean straight away, then ran to her bedside table wearing only a towel. She turned her phone on, impatient for it to restart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as the phone glowed with life, the screen revealed there was a new text message waiting. It was from Yennefer. She had already texted, barely half an hour after Tissaia had left.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The butterfly in her heart started to flutter its wings.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> If you've got nothing better to do for the rest of the weekend you could do me? I'll do you too if you like. Pack a bag this time ;)</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi everyone! I nearly lost half my job because of uni-wide job cuts but it looks like I'm going to be saved. I was pretty down about it for a while but now I'm back to normal. Hope you're all safe and well. Thanks so much for your support of this story, I'm really grateful for it. Enjoy :)x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They spent the whole weekend together and, for Tissaia, it was surreal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She returned to Yennefer's flat on Saturday (with an overnight bag) and the afternoon flew by while they were lounging around and casually making out, ignoring Netflix's 'Are you still watching?' screen in the background. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When hunger pangs set in that evening, Yennefer called for Uber Eats to deliver them some food from the local Indian restaurant. She told Tissaia she'd be deeply offended if they didn't eat with their hands the traditional way and, when Tissaia obliged, she laughed and said she was joking. Then she grabbed Tissaia's hand so that she could suck her fingers clean, revealing her true motive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sleeping with Yennefer was a constantly evolving situation. For all that she liked to try different things and scout the edges of Tissaia's boundaries, she was also unopposed to the vanilla and she took great pleasure in wearing lingerie and putting on a show. Tissaia had not had this much sex in years and it had never been in such a carefree, unplanned way. Spontaneity did not come naturally to her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On Sunday they spent the morning exploring each other's bodies in the soft daylight. Once they'd gotten up and showered, Tissaia suggested they go to the local farmer's markets since it was such a good day weather-wise. She was unsure whether Yennefer would be willing to be ‘together’ in public or whether this weekend tryst was meant to be kept indoors. Yennefer readily agreed to the promise of caffeine.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At the markets they beelined for an artisan coffee stall and then wandered through the slow-moving crowd of prams, bargain-hunters, and older couples holding hands. Coming across a plant stall, Yennefer picked up a small cactus and held it out to show Tissaia. It was a squat, dark green bulbous shape with clusters of little white spikes and it sat low in a pot of rocky soil.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Look at this,” cooed Yennefer. “It's your twin!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia's reply was deadpan. "Yes, the resemblance is uncanny."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought so too. You're both short, a little prickly, and way too cute not to take home forever."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer handed over three dollars to the older white-haired gentleman who was manning the stall and bought the cactus which she promptly named 'Smaller Tissaia'.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On Sunday night, Yennefer batted her eyelashes at her when Tissaia hinted at leaving so she slept over against her better judgement (and again, there wasn't much sleeping done). She hadn’t wanted to leave if she was honest. In the morning she had to drag herself out of bed much earlier than usual and leave a still sleeping Yennefer in order to go home to get dressed for work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first days back at work were only remarkable in that nothing had changed despite them spending every night together. Knowing Yennefer's capacity for mischief, Tissaia half expected to be dragged away into an empty tutorial room and seduced but so far Yennefer had been strictly professional. Even when there was no-one else around to see or overhear she behaved herself. It was almost disappointing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia walked down to reception and waited at the counter until Yennefer was off the phone. As soon as she was free to talk, she turned her crystal-cut gaze onto Tissaia and gave her a rather obvious looking-over. Her eyes spoke what she was thinking about and it wasn’t professional at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I'd like to make a room booking,” said Tissaia.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know the drill,” said Yennefer. “I need to know the room name, how many attendees, and the date and time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia lowered her voice to a whisper. “My bedroom. Just the two of us. Tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm sounds intriguing.” Yennefer arched an eyebrow at the non-work request. “I haven't seen your place yet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we could go out to dinner first. I'll pick you up at 7?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It's a date.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia gave her a pointed look. “Is it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer leaned forward, deliberately emphasising the cleavage peeking through her blouse. “You're the one who's asking. What are your intentions?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My intentions are honorable. I would like to take you on a proper date. I have neither the intention nor the desire to date anyone else."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Me neither.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s settled then. My day’s full of meetings so I won’t see you until tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’ll look forward to it all day.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The phone rang causing Yennefer's headset to flash red near her ear. She paused before answering, noticing that Tissaia was about to walk away. "Oh, and there’s no need to be too honourable. I hope to be thoroughly debauched tonight." Then she winked and answered the call, making the switch between her ‘bedroom voice’ and ‘customer service voice’ instantaneously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia had always been a realist; she knew things that were too perfect could not last forever. Indeed, it wasn’t long before her personal life collided with her work life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The day after the date, Vilgefortz cornered her in the staff kitchen at 2pm while she was heating up her lunch in the microwave. He stood next to her with his lunchbox in hand while she watched her own rotate as the seconds ticked down on the microwave clock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm smells good,” said Vilgefortz, overly slick as always. “Is that green Thai curry?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Tissaia, impatient to escape back to her office.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What a coincidence. Yennefer had leftover green Thai curry today as well. She said it was from that new place on Common Street. Must be popular.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His smug face begged to be stapled with a copy of the national research ethics guidelines.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia stabbed the Stop button with her finger, grabbed her piping hot food, and shut the microwave door with a snap and left without a word.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer was loving life these days. The last step in getting over Geralt turned out to be getting under Tissaia. Or sometimes on top of her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>In her student days, Yennefer had occasionally wondered what her stern-and-staid professor would be like in bed. There were only two possibilities, she figured. Dr de Vries was either a total dominatrix or she was such a control freak during the day that she was desperate to give it up completely at night. The truth was neither. Tissaia was fine with being held down but did not</span> <span>like face-sitting and would not abide a hand around her neck. She was also what Yennefer affectionately called a 'cuddleslut' after sex despite her fastidiousness about cleaning up and peeing right after.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was light enough that Yennefer liked to toss her onto the bed or come up behind her for a hug while she was doing the dishes and lift her off the floor. The chiding was worth it. That led to the discovery of one of Yennefer's biggest turn-ons -- Tissaia's voice, deep and sometimes roughened from overuse after she'd given back-to-back lectures, chastising her, praising her, teasing her… Heaven.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The day after their first dinner date she went to Tissaia’s office for their customary afternoon chat. When she got there Tissaia seemed on edge about something and didn't waste any time waiting to bring it up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m concerned that we didn’t really talk before we started sleeping together. I didn’t get your consent.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you did,” said Yennefer, suddenly wondering if she was the one who misremembered that first night. “You asked me several times if I was ok.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But we work in the same department and I’m in a position of power. I should’ve made sure you knew you could say no without jeopardising your employment, that there would be no repercussions…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you'd never do that. Besides, nobody yet has been able to get me to do something I didn’t want to do. Or stop me from doing something I was determined to do. I’m contrary like that,” Yennefer joked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia didn’t respond to the humour. “It was my responsibility.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something had happened, Yennefer was sure of it. Tissaia was almost never guilt-ridden like this. She was careful before she acted or spoke and therefore did not often have cause to regret her actions or words. But now it sounded as though she thought she had taken advantage or abused her position in initiating their sexual relationship.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What's going on, Tissaia," said Yennefer, hoping to get a straight answer. "I can tell you're stuck in your head about something."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia explained the lunch incident and said, “I think Vilgefortz knows we're sleeping together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So.” Yennefer shrugged. “What can he do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He could make life hard for us both.” Seeing her skeptical look, Tissaia added, “You don't know university politics like I do. The further up you go the worse it gets.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, that was it, Yennefer realised. Tissaia was worried that people would find out and think she was a predatory lesbian or something and it would ruin her career. That would be ridiculous. Her record at the university spoke for itself and her character was unimpeachable. Yennefer wasn’t worried for her own sake either. Half the department were idiots, being gossiped about meant nothing to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, your job is safe,” Yennefer pointed out. “You have tenure. If you’re worried about my job, don’t be -- I hardly care.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I care.” Tissaia paused and looked down at her hands which were laid on the desk one on top of the other. “You're still in your three-month probationary period. I think we should stop spending time together at work like this. Especially behind closed doors.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okayyy,” said Yennefer, bristling. “I'll see you tonight then?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you're ending this. Just like that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Must you be so fatalistic,” Tissaia snapped, frustration finally breaking through. “I didn’t say I wanted to end it. We've been living in each other's pockets since we got together. I haven’t had one night to myself since before the conference. I haven't got any clean clothes and there's no food in the house. I need some space.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer turned on her heel and went back to her desk at reception to face an afternoon with nothing to look forward to.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer attempted to spend her evening off in a non-self destructive manner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For dinner she prepared herself a sandwich (not as healthy as a real meal but better than nothing). When she sat down to watch some Netflix she realised that most of the shows on her watchlist were bookmarked at the places where she and Tissaia had gotten up to. She selected one of her vapid guilty-pleasure reality shows, one that Tissaia wouldn’t mind missing because she usually closed her eyes through it while they cuddled and Yennefer played with her hair.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not checking her phone for messages every five minutes was the biggest challenge. She was bored. All she could think about was Tissaia and hoping she would text or call and say she’d changed her mind about spending the night apart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer decided she needed to talk to someone and pester them for advice. She muted the TV.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unlocking her phone with a swipe, she navigated to a particular Contact who, in her photo, was asleep with her mouth open and had six or seven disposable chopsticks stuck in her hair. The phone rang three times and she was just about to hang up when it was answered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without waiting for the person on the other end to say anything Yennefer asked: “Am I too clingy in a relationship?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” said Sabrina, with no hesitation. “You’re a Stage 4-and-a-half clinger.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gee thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you didn’t want honesty you would’ve called someone else. I take it you’re seeing someone new?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” said Yennefer. She gave a quick overview of how long they’d been together but glossed over the identifying details. “I thought everything was going well. But she said we've been ‘living in each other’s pockets’ since we got together. She asked for some space. What should I do?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Give it to her and wait until she comes back to you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And if she doesn’t?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then she's not that into you and being clingy won't change that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer sighed, hating how vulnerable she sounded. “I don’t want to lose her. Have I fucked it up already?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I doubt it. Just be honest with her next time. You're probably reacting like this because of what happened with ManChild. He was never around when you needed him, he couldn’t commit the way you wanted him to, and then he betrayed your trust. It's understandable that you need some reassurance. But you have to leave the crazy train back at the station. This is a new person you're dating. You have to understand their needs too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For someone who had no feelings herself, Sabrina had a good read on other people’s. By the end of their relationship Yennefer had indeed felt like she was going crazy. Geralt had stopped giving her what she needed to feel secure and when she went chasing after it she ended up chasing him away. And then he tripped and fell and his dick landed in Triss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Tissaia wasn’t Geralt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Two things annoyed her now: first, that she’d been made to think of her ex again after not thinking about him for ages, and second, that he had come up in a conversation about Tissaia when the two of them were not even remotely similar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She would have to give Tissaia the space she needed or end up losing her. Ugh. How dare Sabrina make so much sense.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate your advice,” Yennefer stated. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sabrina made a ‘pshh’ sound. “I give great advice. So who is the mystery woman and is the sex any good?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think she would want me to tell anyone yet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It's Tissaia isn't it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer’s jaw dropped. “Wha- How did you know?” she spluttered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn't! It was a joke. Oh my god.” Sabrina started to laugh, a chuckle that soon crescendoed into an uproar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you forget I said anything?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you’re dating Tissaia de Vries. You're so fucked, babe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that mean?” said Yennefer, defensively.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You've had a crush on her since Intro to Health Policy. I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> worth of stupid shit you've said about her written down beside my notes: ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s so gorgeous, she’s so smart, can I marry her brain</span>
  </em>
  <span>?’ I can’t wait to read it all out at your engagement party or your wedding or something. This is going to be awesome.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate you,” Yennefer grumbled. "You are literally the worst."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hilarious that she even tolerates you, let alone chooses to spend her free time with a menace like you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer waited while Sabrina kept cackling to herself, no doubt thinking up ways to embarrass her in public. Being engaged to Tissaia one day might be worth the trolling though. That alone made her feel more determined to make it work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So… what's Tissaia like in bed?” Sabrina asked after her laughter ceased.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yennefer grinned to herself. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, and then ended the call.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time she was ready to collapse into bed that night, Yennefer had decided she wasn't going to go easy on Tissaia the next time they talked. She’d wanted space so Yennefer was going to give her her damn space. She was not going to message first, she was going to wait for Tissaia to make the first contact. After all, they'd had a bit of a tiff over the issue and Yennefer hadn’t done anything wrong (for once). She checked her phone one last time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> I assume you’re still up. Goodnight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> Goodnight</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as she sent it another message came straight back, indicating that Tissaia was still awake and on her phone too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> I know this was my idea but I do miss you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> I don't miss you. There's no-one here to hog the blankets and kick me all night. How someone so small takes up so much of the bed is beyond me </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> My bed is cold and doesn't smell like your perfume anymore.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> Easily fixed. It's Insolence by Guerlain. Go buy some</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her thumb hovered over the send icon. The message sounded more bitter than she actually felt. Did she really want to spurn Tissaia's olive twig? She erased the last bit and sent the new version.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> Easily fixed. It's Insolence by Guerlain. I'll scent my territory next time I come over</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> I'm sorry about today. Things started to pile up and I took it out on you. I will be more mindful in future.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> It's ok I’ll get over it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> I think I was too hasty. I'd like it if you would come to my office tomorrow at 5 as usual. I have an idea for a work project for you.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> OMG what idea???</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> I'll explain in person.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Yennefer:</b>
  <span> Have you mistaken me for someone with patience? How am I supposed to sleep now</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>Tissaia:</b>
  <span> I have an idea for that too…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seconds later, the phone started vibrating in her hand with a new call coming through. Yennefer couldn't contain her smile at the photo of the caller. She swiped right to answer, excited by the hairpin turn the night had taken.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tissaia didn't wait for a greeting. "Hello, darling. What are you wearing?"</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading :)x Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, Yennefer didn’t get a chance to see Tissaia in person until after work and by that time she was gagging for a sight of her. Their meeting was the only thing on her mind the whole day, especially since work was slowing down towards the mid-year break between teaching semesters. She was reasonably sure that things between them were ok (after last night’s make-up phone sex) but doubt still niggled at her when she went to Tissaia’s office at 5. Would she get rebuffed again?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The office door was already open and when she went in she didn’t close it behind her. She didn't like Tissaia's mandate about them being chaste at work (it's not like they would be the first couple in academia who worked together) but she would go along with it. For now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia looked up, wearing her glasses, and smiled when she saw her come in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey you.” Yennefer had a vague awareness that she was grinning like a loon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Tissaia took off her glasses and folded them. “You look lovely.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is that a compliment for today or an indictment on how I usually look.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know exactly what it is. I will not indulge your ego any further than that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer hid a smirk. This morning she’d decided that she wasn’t above weaponising her looks and had dressed to kill. It was gratifying to know that Tissaia wasn’t immune to it. Yennefer raised a hand to toss her hair, which she’d styled into gentle waves with a hair straightener, stretching the flimsy blouse that gave a nice view of her cleavage. She sat down in the chair opposite the desk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shall we discuss your potential work project?” said Tissaia, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Before you completely derail my train of thought.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” Yennefer teased her back. “I’m dying to hear what work I can do that you apparently can’t do yourself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s not the point. Of course I could do it. The point is to give you an opportunity to get back into research -- if that’s of interest to you. I thought we could co-author a paper together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s your idea?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Actually, it’s your idea. I was intrigued by what you were saying the other day about the theory of care seeking behaviour being applied to mammography screening programs, specifically barriers to attendance and patient delay. Some US researchers have used that model but I don’t think it has been done in this country. Yet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer made a skeptical face. “But you’ve already done a study of behaviour change. I know you used Prochaska’s model instead.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want to know what you think.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think Prochaska doesn’t take demographic factors into account. Differences in socioeconomics, indigenous status, being from a non-English speaking background... stuff like that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And how does the care seeking behaviour model take those constructs into account?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Isn’t it obvious?” Yennefer scoffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Is it? Has anyone bothered to write it up and publish it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, fine. I take your point, Socrates.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good. Start with a lit review and get the national stats on screening attendance broken down by those demographic factors you mentioned. Then see if there’s any relevant variables in the MoodFit survey and what else you might need to collect. I'll look over it once you've got a draft.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite their recent increase in intimacy, Yennefer was taken aback by the confidence Tissaia had in her. When it was first mentioned she assumed the project would be pretty basic but this was more suited to a PhD student and it was right up her alley. Tissaia wasn’t generous with her non-existent free time, she must actually think that Yennefer was capable of picking up research even after a four year absence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It hadn’t escaped her that the project would encompass something they’d both had to deal with recently -- patient delay. Tissaia herself had avoided going to the doctor for weeks after her mammogram and it wasn’t because she couldn’t afford the time off work or couldn’t understand English well. She’d been scared. What other affective factors were barriers to care seeking? Yennefer wondered, already forming a mental list of possibilities.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After hashing out some bounds for the literature search, the two of them packed up and walked out to the carpark together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they got to Tissaia’s car, a sleek white Audi A1, they faced each other. The sinking sun at her back reminded Yennefer that her time with Tissaia was running out. She was dying to kiss her and take her home for Netflix, sex, and cuddles. But they hadn't discussed any plans for tonight. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks for today,” said Yennefer, but it was not all she wanted to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should be thanking you,” said Tissaia, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the orange glare. “Not only for this afternoon but yesterday as well. I didn’t handle it as well as I should have.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Me neither. I was a bit shitty about it. Whenever you need space, can you let me know for how long? I just need to know that you’re coming back to me. It’s a sore point for me because of you-know-who.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, darling.” Tissaia’s face softened. "I'm all yours now."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer's face burst into a smile. "Really?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yes. When I went to sleep last night my arms were empty. Tonight I would like it if they were not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia opened the door to the front passenger seat and held it open for her. It was an offer, a request, and a promise rolled into one.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Over the next few weeks they settled into a routine that incorporated both their work and home lives. Some days they had lunch together at work, most days they discussed Yennefer’s paper in the afternoon, and nearly every night they spent together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shuttling between her flat and Tissaia’s house got old quickly, especially because Yennefer didn’t have transport other than her own two feet and a Metro card. They stayed at Tissaia’s house more often (even though it was further away from the University) because it had a bath big enough for two and the restaurants in its Uber Eats radius were better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer found herself becoming less clingy as time went on, primarily because Tissaia was fastidious about keeping her word. If she said she would be somewhere or do something she followed through. The few times she couldn’t she called or sent a text. Yennefer didn’t have to worry about what she was getting up to when they were apart either (unlike Geralt, who would say he was going away for a weekend for work and then be pictured on social media with women he’d met at a local bar).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia was very introverted and too used to spending her time alone. But it turned out to be fairly easy to give her space since what she needed more was a sense of control over her time and her environment and often the two of them didn't need to be apart to achieve that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now that they were approaching their two month anniversary, Tissaia must’ve felt comfortable bringing up a few reservations she’d had about their relationship earlier on. They were lazing in bed one Sunday morning when she revealed that at first she had thought Yennefer was probably straight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer burst out laughing. “Aww, honey, I can’t believe you thought I was straight. That’s offensive. I spent years flouncing around trying to get you to notice me. I hit on you!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You were a student at the time. And you were drunk!” protested Tissaia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was tipsy at best.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You weren’t serious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, I was.” Yennefer pouted. “But I didn’t think you’d say yes. I figured you’d think I was too young and immature. I had the biggest crush on you. I was so sad when you rejected me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop,” Tissaia complained. “Don’t give me that look. You’ll make me feel bad.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You BROKE my poor little heart. I was devastated BEYOND compare. I nearly DIED of misery-” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If I kiss you will you shut up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It did not shut her up for long, though she did stop hamming up her disappointment at being rejected years earlier. They were even now because she’d rejected Tissaia the first time she asked her to dinner too. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Apparently Tissaia wasn’t quite finished checking off her to-do list of issues to discuss because next she brought up the number of years between them as though it might be a dealbreaker. (Tissaia didn’t know it but Geralt was older than her, and, with his completely grey hair, he looked it -- to the point that strangers sometimes made rude comments.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you concerned about our age difference?” asked Tissaia, shifting her head on the pillow to watch her closely. They were facing each other only a few inches apart. There were even fewer inches between them everywhere else they were intertwined.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Yennefer snorted. “I’m more concerned about our difference in sleeping habits. I can’t believe I’m dating an early bird. What's the opposite of a night owl?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A lark.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s you then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia smiled wistfully. “My mother gave me the nickname Skylark when I was a little girl, after the poem by Shelley.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer reached up to stroke Tissaia’s hair. “What about your dad? You’ve never mentioned him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don't remember him. Mum said he died in a car accident when I was still a baby. He was Dutch. They met at university and got married after only three months. We lived in Stockholm until I was about 5 or 6 and then emigrated.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I bet you were adorable at that age.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer tried to imagine Tissaia as a child -- a tiny girl with brown hair and steel-blue eyes, who was quiet, serious, and obedient. Nothing like the chaos goblin that Yennefer had been, according to her mother who had been driven nuts from dawn til dusk by her incessant questions and need for attention. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The second you leave me alone in this house I’m going to hunt down a photo album," said Yennefer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia smiled fully, a rare display of teeth, indicating that such photos probably did exist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite the trauma of her mother’s early death, Tissaia didn’t seem bothered by the absence of her father. That was something Yennefer could relate to herself. (Her mother didn't know who her biological father was.) The downside of asking questions about family was that they were turned back on herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about your parents?” asked Tissaia. "Are you close?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh, no." Yennefer made a face. "Mum and I don’t get along, never have. I moved out as soon as I was 18. Then she met some rando on the internet and went to live with him and his kids. She calls him my stepfather but I’ve only met him a couple times since they got married. He’s not fond of me and the feeling is more than mutual.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wish you had more support.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wish Daft Punk would get back together,” Yennefer joked, and then shrugged her shoulder. "Anyway, I've learned to care less."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia was looking at her in a peculiar way, looking through her, as though she didn't believe her. Or did she disapprove of her voluntary distance from her family?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What," said Yennefer playfully. "You think it's heartless not to care?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No, I don't think I've ever met anyone who cares as much as you do."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"About what?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Everything."</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>By the end of the next week Yennefer presented Tissaia with a printout of the first draft of her paper. There was no-one whose opinion she valued more highly than Tissaia's so she had worked hard on it, hoping to impress her and prove that she was still cut out for research. A small part of her wanted to show that she should've been first choice for the PhD scholarship four years ago instead of Sabrina. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia had told her that the paper really would be hers: she would be first author. She would not be paid, however, Tissaia hinted strongly that she could work on it during the day if she had nothing to do at reception and was bored (rather than doing it in her own time at home).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her confidence came to a crashing halt when Tissaia dropped by her desk at reception to hand back her paper the very next day. Yennefer wasn’t expecting it and didn't know where she'd found the time to read it so quickly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After Tissaia had rushed off to her next meeting, Yennefer stared at the front page in horror: it was covered in red corrections and comments. There was so much red it looked like a bloody murder scene. Her paper must've been <em> terrible </em>. Hot shame prickled up her spine. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why had Tissaia even offered her this opportunity if she was this shit?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why get her hopes up?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At 5pm, Yennefer bypassed Tissaia's office, skipped their standing afternoon meeting, and trudged home. She flopped on the couch as soon as she got to her flat and was still slumped there half an hour later when she heard the familiar sound of a car parking outside in the driveway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia must've assumed they were staying at her flat tonight when she didn't turn up at her office.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer heard her spare key turn in the lock and then Tissaia called out for her, letting her know she was entering. She heard Tissaia's keys clinking when she hung them in the deadlock as usual. Not long later, she felt her presence standing a few feet away and glanced up without moving. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia set down her laptop bag and purse and then peered at her, probably trying to decipher her bad mood. "What's wrong?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm shitty," said Yennefer flatly. "At myself, not you," she added, lest she give the wrong idea.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Anything I can do?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Nope, you've done enough. It's me. I can't write for shit." Yennefer picked up the edge of the throw blanket covering her legs and threw it aside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia sat down next to her and then settled her palm on Yennefer’s thigh. For all her reservedness, she really was touch-y when she was close to someone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Is this about your paper?” said Tissaia. “It does need some work before it will be publishable. For a first draft it was good." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer frowned. "But you scribbled corrections all over it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You gave me a lot to work with, which is more than I can say for most of my students. Your central argument is sound and the Discussion section was excellent. Didn't you read the feedback?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No," Yennefer said sheepishly, allowing a little smile to peek through. "I saw all the red and thought you hated it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia let out a long-suffering sigh. “I never have this trouble with Sabrina. Academically, you’re more like me. Your writing is an expression of how much you care about your subject. And when it’s not going well, you take it personally.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Can you tell me the part about me being excellent again?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Correction: you take it <em> very </em> personally. You are either overflowing with confidence or completely lacking in it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Eh. Confidence makes up for a lot."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Indeed." Tissaia gave her blanketed thigh a squeeze and pressed her lips into a smile. "Next time I'll give you feedback in person until you get used to the level of criticism. Sometimes I forget that you haven't done this before."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer sighed. "I'd be so much further ahead if I hadn't wasted the last four years. I would've been close to finishing by now."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia tilted her head to look at Yennefer's expression closely. She'd never heard her bring that up before, especially in a regretful tone, and it was something she was intensely curious about -- why Yennefer had never pursued her PhD at any institution if not Aretuza.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Why did you turn down the Falka PhD scholarship?" asked Tissaia.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer returned the eye contact and frowned. "I didn't get it. Never even heard back."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia looked confused by the contradiction. "Yes, you did. You were my first choice. When you turned it down it went to Sabrina, who was ranked second. I still have the rejection email you sent me saying you were pursuing an offer at another institution, which I assumed was Oxenfurt."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Can I see it?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few tense minutes passed, with Yennefer sitting up stiffly waiting while Tissaia retrieved her laptop and searched her email archive for the email. As soon as she found it in her well-organised filing system she angled the laptop so that Yennefer could see the screen.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It only took Yennefer a few seconds to skim the content of the email. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I didn't write that."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tissaia’s froze as horror dawned on her. "Are you telling me someone else did? How could they have sent it from your student email address without your knowledge? Who would do such a thing?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yennefer threw off the blanket, leapt up and ran for the front door. She moved so abruptly that Tissaia got up by instinct, forgetting that the laptop rested in her lap. It clattered to the floor before she could correct her mistake. And then she nearly tripped over the fucking blanket.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Yennefer, wait!" Tissaia called out. "Where are you going!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She ran after her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But by the time she got to the front door she heard her own car reversing down the driveway and accelerating into the street.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Notes<br/>- Prochaska's model - this is a commonly used model for determining what stage of change an individual is at with regards to changing a behaviour (e.g., taking up exercise or quitting smoking). I don't have an in-depth knowledge of it, so any mistakes or misrepresentations of the theory are entirely mine.<br/>- Tissaia's nickname - in the Witcher book series Tissaia de Vries' true name was Skylark. I made it a reference to the poem "To a skylark" by Percy Bysshe Shelley<br/>- Yennefer's attitude towards her family - from the Game!Yennefer quote “I'm not heartless, I've just learned how to use my heart less.” To me, Netflix!Yennefer seems to care about things a whole lot while pretending not to.<br/>- Yennefer's reaction to the red pen - this was something my advisor came across while I was a PhD student. He read some study that found that students reacted worse to feedback that was written in red pen, that it brought up feelings of failure, being wrong, etc. I used to give him printed drafts and he'd make corrections in red pen all over it. It didn't bother me personally but he switched to green pen after that. The concept has been used in several of Jorge Cham's comics including this one:<br/>http://phdcomics.com/comics/archive.php/tellafriend.php?comicid=690<br/>- Yennefer metronoming between self loathing and self confidence - from the Netflix!Yennefer quote “Whatever you lack in talent, you make up for in confidence”.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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